#but Jason can’t ever let his walls down

[littlexdeaths]

scotty doesn’t know - e.m. ii.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: all characters are 18+, some angst, no use of y/n, cheating, protective eddie, shitty boyfriend behavior, unwanted touches/advances, underage drinking/partying, grinding, fingering, light praise kink, biting, unprotected piv sex, cream pie

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: god i feel like this took me forever, so apologies for that. but i just need to thank both @undead-supernova and @xxbimbobunnyxx for helping me so much with getting this fic put back together. i love you both so so much. 🥹💕

word count: 8.3k

Out of all the places you wanted to be on a Friday night, Jason Carver’s house wasn’t one of them.

The party was in full swing, music blasting from the speakers in the living room. Red solo cups and beer cans littered every available surface, as your classmates drank without a care in the world. Between the loud, synthy pop music and the constant chattering, you felt incredibly overwhelmed.

Parties were never really your scene.

You wanted nothing more than to go home and put on a film for the night. But dating a popular basketball player brought you out of your comfort zone more often than not. While that could be seen as a good thing, it was the opposite in this case. You never got to do things that you wanted, the plans always revolving around Scott.

However, there was one good thing about the party tonight. Or rather— someone.

Eddie Munson.

He’d kept his distance of course, so as not to raise any alarm bells with anyone. Most likely using the excuse of a good sale to be there in the first place. If anyone bothered to ask him. He rested his shoulder against the living room wall, a bag of freshly rolled joints clutched in his hand.

Eddie had surrounded himself with Robin and Steve the entire night, looking like he wanted to be there even less than you did. You can’t help but steal glances at each other from across the room.

Eddie looks good—he always does. His long curls are tied back in a low bun, sporting his signature ripped jeans and a Metallica shirt that hugs his broad shoulders nicely. You’ve wanted nothing more than to jump his bones the moment you got a chance to be alone.

The idea of sneaking off with him to one of the many guest rooms became more tempting as the party raged on.

You’ve secluded yourself on the sofa in the living room, adjacent to the makeshift dance floor. Thankful that most people are having too much fun to notice you there. You’ve been slowly sipping on a now watered down mixed drink, finding yourself feeling less and less in the party mood. However, your boyfriend seems to have other plans.

Scott is plastered. Irritatingly so.

You spent most of the night hiding from him, knowing how handsy he liked to get when he was drunk.

And as much as you’ve tried to pretend that everything was fine with Scott, your ability to fake it has become much harder. Especially knowing what you could be having instead.

So for the past week you’d avoided being alone with the basketball star. Ever since that fateful phone call the weekend prior. While you had still gone to the party that night, Scott eventually noticed something was up with you. Mostly due to the fact that you hadn’t let him touch you in over a week.

That was the driving force behind his drinking rampage tonight. The male had done 3 keg stands (that you’d witnessed) since he’d been here, on top however many beers he’d consumed. You’re exactly sure, but it’s the worst you’ve ever seen him.

Part of you does feel guilty, but a bigger part of you is starting to care less and less.

Ironically, Take Me Home Tonight by Eddie Money starts playing the moment he finds you again. But going anywhere with him is by far the last thing you wanted to do. The male slurs along to the track as he plops down next to you, nearly spilling his entire drink in your lap.

You can’t hide the grimace on your face as he leans into you, his breath reeking of stale beer. You grab the cup out of his hand before it spills everywhere. Huffing in annoyance as you set it down on the side table.

You really aren’t in the mood to play babysitter.

Scott’s hands, now empty, immediately grab at your hips to pull you in closer. His lips easily find your neck, the feeling of his hot breath making your skin crawl. You gently shove him off, but he leans back into your space immediately.

Normally you’d let him wear himself out, but you really don’t feel like it tonight.

“Scott, come on stop,” you sigh, no longer able to hide the irritation in your voice.

But your boyfriend is clearly not listening, continuing to press sloppy kisses along the exposed skin of your collarbone. A muffled moan leaves him as he guides your hand onto his lap.

You’re no longer able to conceal the alarmed expression that appears on your face as you tug your hand away. “I mean it, Scott.” He just groans in annoyance, feeling his fingers hook into the loop of your jeans.

“You’re too drunk, I said knock it off,” your voice drips with malice, despite how panicked you feel.

The male would always listen if you ever told him off, but his current state of intoxication clearly overtakes any rational thought.

“Oh come on, babe. We haven’t fucked in over a week, I have needs,” he slurs.

Before you have the chance to respond, the weight of his body disappears. You quickly glance up, your eyes widening in shock. Eddie has pulled your boyfriend up by the collar of his polo shirt, and suddenly it’s like the air is sucked out of the room.

Scott is fuming, a slew of curses leaves his mouth as he attempts to shove him off. Eddie is stone faced as he releases him abruptly, causing Scott to stumble backwards. He recovers quicker than you expected, raising his fist to aim a punch at the metalhead. But Eddie’s reflexes are much faster, catching the closed fist and knocking it away.

Scott was good in a fight, but he’s too inebriated to do much damage at this point.

“She said to knock it off, Scotty. I know you’re stupid but are you deaf too?”

You quickly get up and squeeze yourself between the two males, a clear pissing contest about to ensue if you don’t intervene. Your back is pressed against your boyfriend's chest, as your eyes plead with your lover to calm down.

“She’s my girlfriend Munson, fuck off,” he sneers.

The music has suddenly been turned down to a more tolerable volume, the focus of the party now shifting onto you— much to your dismay.

You can feel Scott’s hot breath against your neck, as his hands wrap around your middle to pull you further against his chest. Eddie is furious, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscles straining underneath his pale skin.

If you weren’t in this current predicament, you might have found it sexy. But you’re far too anxious to focus on anything else right now.

“Doesn’t matter, she doesn’t want you to fucking touch her,” Eddie’s voice continues to raise, until he’s almost yelling over your head. “No means no, dickhead!”

You can see Jason beginning to push through the crowd, Steve hot on his heels. The last thing you wanted was for this whole situation to escalate further. But judging by the look on Jason's face, you don’t know if you can stop it.

The crowd is clearly itching for a fight to break out, the whole atmosphere of the party shifting.

“Hey, freak! Who even invited you here?”

Eddie doesn’t even flinch at Jason’s insult.

“I did, Carver,” Steve answers, inserting himself in the already strained situation.

The tension between the four males is so thick, it makes you wish the ground would open and swallow you whole. Steve glances down at you for a moment before continuing, “But it seems to me like you need to get McGuire here in line. She’s clearly uncomfortable.”

You feel multiple pairs of eyes flick back to you, your shoulders slouching in an attempt to make yourself appear smaller. You catch Jason’s gaze, knowing he can clearly see the distress flitting over your features. The blonde sighs deeply, resting a hand on Scott’s shoulder.

“Scott, come on, just let it go,” he says, beginning to tug the male away from you. “You’ve had too much to drink.”

Before your boyfriend can even begin to protest, Jason and a newly joined Patrick lead him away. While you’re quite shocked that he was willing to break this up, part of you is thankful. Normally, the pair would egg each other on to keep a fight going. But as big of a prick Jason Carver is, he knew Steve was right.

You can feel the tears welling in the corners of your eyes, the party seeming to return to normal. While Steve has also disappeared into the crowd, Eddie hasn’t moved an inch. His eyes follow the group of jocks as they filed out of the room, casually flipping them the bird.

But his focus quickly returns to you. You can see in his eyes how he so desperately wants to envelop you in his arms and kiss your tears away.

But he knows he can’t. Not here.

Those protective urges are getting harder and harder for him to fight.

He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can say anything else you’re rushing past him. Pushing through the sea of drunken teens and to the front door. Your fight or flight instincts are finally kicking in, and you know you have to leave.

Anywhere is better than here.

You’d hitched a ride to the party with Chrissy, but you’re not about to try and find her now. You need to be alone.

You run for almost three blocks before you have to stop, resting your hands on your knees as you try to catch your breath. You take a minute to let your heart rate slow to a more steady rhythm before you start walking in the direction of your house.

While Hawkins is a relatively small town, your house is still a couple miles from the party. Walking the entire way isn’t the most ideal plan, but you didn’t give yourself much of a choice. And there’s no way you were going back there now.

You can only imagine the rumors that will be floating around the school come Monday. As much as you try to put on a brave face, you care too much about what your peers thought of you. You can already hear the kind of insults that would be thrown your way.

Skank, prude, lying whore.

The possibilities of cruel words were endless. You let out a small hiccup as you continue down the dimly lit street, finally allowing the tears to roll freely down your cheeks. You don’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry too.

How did you even get to this point?

Two months ago you couldn’t have foreseen yourself in this position. Falling for another guy, whilst simultaneously falling out of love with another. If you ever loved Scott to begin with. You’re not entirely convinced of that fact.

It felt like the easiest option, being with someone like Scott McGuire. He’s well-liked, a person your parents approve of. But you weren’t really happy, just going through the motions instead of chasing what you really want.

Perhaps that was what Eddie had really witnessed that night he had stumbled across you and Scott. Someone who was desperately searching for a way out. And he’d given it to you in ways you never expected.

Eddie was kind, attentive— cared about your feelings and desires.

What started off as just sex quickly snowballed into something much deeper. You had never really given much thought to your own needs. Maybe that was why his offer was too good to pass up, it let you indulge in uncharted territory.

You’d been labeled as a good girl your entire life. You never rebelled and always do exactly as you’re told. To the extent that you never felt an ounce of control over the trajectory of your own relationship. Or many other facets within your life.

It was whatever Scott or your parents thought was best for you. They’ve never taken into consideration what you had actually wanted.

But being with Eddie was like a breath of fresh air. It filled your lungs, greedily inhaling everything he has to offer. After struggling beneath the current for so long, there was no way you would let it pull you back under.

A cool breeze suddenly whips across your face, stinging your wet cheeks. You wrap your arms tighter around yourself to stop a shiver. Thankfully, you had forgone the usual skirts or dresses you adored, in favor of a sweater and jeans. Grateful for the extra layers to combat against the sudden drop in temperature.

You keep your head down as you continue to walk further down the quiet street. Only the sounds of your sneakers padding against the concrete and your soft sniffles fill the night air. It’s almost peaceful.

You make it another block before that tranquility is interrupted. You hear the loud rumble of an engine as a vehicle approaches you from behind. While not many people would be out past midnight in this sleepy town, you don’t think anything of it. You figured they would continue driving down the empty street.

That is until that same vehicle begins to idle next to you.

You glance out of your peripheral and curse softly. You would recognize that van anywhere, having found yourself in the back of it more times than you could count.

The window is cranked down as you turn away, beginning to walk a little faster. But the van keeps pace with you regardless. Eddie calls your name, but you keep your eyes trained on the ground. Tears are steadily streaming down your cheeks now, smearing your mascara.

While the brunette has seen you cry before— it was under very different circumstances. This feels different, like he’s seeing you naked for the first time all over again. Only this time you don’t feel ready for it.

You feel vulnerable and exposed.

You hate it.

Eddie proceeds to plead your name, as you continue to ignore him. He let the upper half of his torso practically hang out of the driver’s side window. The theatrical nature of it is almost enough to make you crack a smile. But you know he wasn’t going to give up until you at least tried to talk to him. With how he had stood up for you, he at least deserves that.

Having made up your mind, you suddenly stop in your tracks. The van squeaks to a halt beside you, the male flinging the driver’s side door open. You see his scuffed Reebox’s first, letting your eyes linger there for a moment. But you immediately squeeze them shut as his fingers softly grasp your chin, tilting it up.

“Sweetheart, look at me, please.” His tone is gentle, but still laced with concern. “It’s just you and me, you’re safe.” The sincerity behind those words has your heart skipping a beat.

You let out a shaky breath as your eyes begin to flutter open. His face is blurred from the tears flooding your lash line. You slowly blink them away until he finally comes into focus.

“There she is…” he declares, the indent in his cheek deepening as he smiles.

The male cups your face between his palms, letting their warmth seep into your cheeks. His thumbs swipe away any lingering tears as he presses a kiss to your temple. Eddie envelops you in his arms, letting you bury your face into his chest. You breathe in the familiar scent of his cologne, letting him hold you like that for a while.

The glow of the street lights cascades down on both of you. The night air only seems to grow colder the longer you both stand there. A shiver runs through you despite the heat radiating from his chest, something he doesn’t miss.

“Alright, time to go, doll,” he mumbles softly, “Can I drive you home?”

You are silent for a moment, mulling over your options in your head. “No,” you finally say, untangling yourself from him.

He looks a little hurt as you turn to walk towards his van, that hurt morphing into confusion as you yank open the passenger door.

“I don’t want to go home,” you explain, seeming to snap him out of his frozen stature. Eddie quickly climbs back into the van, the door barely slamming shut behind him before he pulls back onto the road.

He keeps one hand on the steering wheel, the other tangled with yours on the seat. When you left the party, you had fully intended to go home alone.

But being tangled up with him sounds like a much better option.

You had never been to Eddie’s trailer.

Whether that was intentional or not, you’re not sure. But it’s the one place that he has never taken you to.

He seems nervous as he leads you through the living room. Your eyes wander curiously around the room, taking in the large collection of coffee mugs and hats that decorate the walls. Eddie sheepishly begins picking up some discarded food wrappers, junk mail— all in an effort to tidy up a little.

“Sorry about…” He pauses, hands full as he motions around the room. “All of this." You refrain from rolling your eyes. Tossing some items into the trash, he jokes, “Goddamn maid left us high and dry last week.”

“Let me guess…she ran off with some wannabe rockstar?” You smile, watching as he leans against the kitchen counter with a matching grin.

“Something like that.”

Despite what Eddie has implied about his humble abode, you liked it the moment you crossed the threshold. It has character, a clear representation of the two men who live there. But it also feels warm and incredibly inviting, something your own home hasn’t felt like in quite a long time.

His uncle already left for the night shift, which means the two of you have the place to yourselves. Eddie shows you to the bathroom, giving you a moment alone to collect yourself. But mostly to clean up the mess your mascara had made on your cheeks.

You emerge from the bathroom a few minutes later, Eddie nowhere in sight. He didn’t tell you which room was his, but it doesn’t take you long to figure it out. The door at the end of the hall was left slightly ajar, golden light spilling out onto the shag carpet. But it’s the strum of a guitar that ends up being your guide.

You push open the door to his bedroom, unable to help the small smile that graces your features as you take it all in. The room is a little messy and cluttered— something you expected.

You let your eyes roam over the many posters splayed across the walls, Metallica, Slayer… and one handmade one. Corroded Coffin. You knew Eddie was in a band—it was the one of the things apart from DnD that he seemed extremely passionate about.

Music.

Eddie’s quiet as he sits on the edge of his unmade bed, an acoustic guitar perched on his lap. This machine slays dragons, is painted in white on the side of the instrument. You find yourself suddenly mesmerized, watching as his fingers slowly brush over the strings.

He finally notices how you’ve planted yourself in the doorway, glancing up at you from underneath his lashes.

“Make yourself at home, sweetheart,” he smiles, gesturing around him. “What’s mine is yours.”

He focuses his attention back on the instrument in his lap, testing out a few chords as you shut the door behind you. You step further into the room, letting your fingers trail along the top of his desk.

Being alone with him like this suddenly feels more intimate than any other time before. It’s like he’s letting you peek inside his mind, showing pieces of himself that not many others get to see. Only those that he trusts. And you can’t deny how it warms your insides.

You’re a little too busy exploring the rest of his room that you don’t notice when his eyes have drifted back to you. The brunette gazes at you fondly when you spot a pair of handcuffs dangling next to his mirror. His soft chuckle fills the room as you reach out to run your fingers over the cool metal.

“We can definitely put those to use, doll.” Those words have you squirming, warmth spreading through your limbs. You shy away as you take a seat in the chair next to his desk. “If you want.”

Eddie grins at your flustered expression, glancing back down at his guitar. He’s playing freely now, the chords unfamiliar to you. But they’re beautiful nonetheless.

“You’re really good at… uh,” you trail off softly, gesturing to the instrument.

You notice how the tips of his ears flush pink from your admission, although he acts unfazed by your compliment.

“What, fingering?” he teases, purposefully pressing his fingers down onto the guitar strings in a dramatic manner which makes you giggle.

The song he was playing quickly morphs into something else, something quite familiar. But you can’t quite put your finger on it. You lean forward to rest your chin in your palm.

The moment he begins to hum the lyrics is the moment when the song becomes abundantly clear.

I, I will be king… and you, you will be queen.

“Heroes,” you murmur, the word almost becoming lodged in your throat.

You had mentioned to Eddie in passing a few weeks ago that it’s your favorite Bowie song.

You never expected him to do anything with that information, or even remember it. But he kept finding ways to surprise you. This small act alone proves that he truly cares about you, that he listens to you. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible.

Your body suddenly feels too warm under the thick layers of clothing. Rising to your feet, you grip the hem of your sweater and pull it over your head. You let the soft material fall to the floor, joining a heap of his own clothing. Standing before him in only your bra and jeans.

Eddie seems to fumble over the next few notes as he takes in your newly exposed skin, averting his gaze as he clears his throat. Now it’s your turn to make him flustered.

But he can’t help but glance at you out of the corner of his eye, as you begin unbuttoning your jeans. You shimmy the denim down your legs, kicking them off to the side. You felt emboldened as you strolled over to the brunette’s dresser. His eyes boring into your back as you rummage through his drawers.

You’re in search of a particular item, a smile stretching across your face once you locate it amongst the various band tees. Reaching behind your back you unclip your bra, you let the straps slide off of your shoulders. The item quickly joins the rest of your discarded clothes on his floor.

You don’t hear how his breath hitches in his throat over the strum of his guitar.

You pull Eddie’s faded hellfire shirt from the drawer and slip it over your head. The soft fabric glides over your skin, the hem falling just past the curve of your ass. It smells like an intoxicating mixture of his cologne and laundry detergent.

You hum softly as you breathe it in, turning to face him again. His dark eyes are blown wide, the guitar now almost forgotten in his hands. Just the sight of you in his clothes is making him feel things he’d be too afraid to admit out loud.

You saunter towards him, carefully grasping the neck of the guitar and leaning it against his dresser. He seems dumbfounded as you climb into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. You tilt your head down towards his ear, lips grazing over it. Enjoying the way he almost shudders beneath you.

“I just want to thank you properly,” you whisper, nipping at his lobe.

Your lips continue to trail across his jaw until you reach his mouth, unable to hold back any longer as you press your lips to his. The feeling of your mouth molding against his own seems to snap Eddie out of whatever trance he was in. His large hands easily find the curve of your waist, gripping the fabric of the shirt in his fists.

Eddie kisses you slowly but deeply, trying to savor the taste of your mouth on his. Your fingers slip the elastic band out of his hair, letting his curls cascade wildly over his shoulders. But the longer he kisses you, the worse the ache between your thighs becomes.

In desperate need of some friction, you grind your hips down against his crotch. Whining as you feel his hardened cock through his jeans. He’d been struggling with it ever since you took that first piece of clothing off. Initially, he was going to ignore it, but then you climbed right into his lap and he lost all sense of logic.

But as much as he wants this to continue, he knows you’re not in the right kind of headspace for more. He groans into your mouth as you continue to rub yourself against him, but his firm grip on your hips stops any further movement. Your eyes flutter open, confusion filling them.

“Slow down, sweetheart,” he pants, one of his hands lifted to carefully cup your cheek. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.”

The look he’s giving you has your heart stuttering, but his words are throwing you for a loop. The whole basis of this… arrangement was sex. The fine line between a casual hookup and a relationship have been blurred for a while. But tonight has made it crystal clear that this has evolved into something much more than that.

Even if neither of you wanted to admit it.

“Do you not want…” you trail off, unable to hide the sliver of hurt in your tone.

He shakes his head, leaning his forehead against yours with a strained sigh.

“Trust me, doll. I definitely want to.” He chuckles, shifting his hips beneath you. “But tonight was… fuck, it was intense. And you can't expect me to believe you're okay after all that. I just want you to have a clear head, is all.”

You mull over his words for a moment as the weight of what happened earlier crashes back over you. And with it, squashing any urge to finish what you had just started.

"I'm not that asshole,” he continues, unable to make out your puzzled expression. “You don't have to fuck me just to make me happy. I'm happy just being with you, like this."

You’re willing yourself not to cry again as he gently presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Eddie basks in the scent of your strawberry shampoo, feeling you start to relax against his chest.

“Now, I don’t know about you.” He yawns, nuzzling your nose with his. “But I think we’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

You laugh quietly, nodding as you climb off his lap. Draping your body over the bed, keeping your eyes focused on him. The male stands to strip down to his boxers, in such a hurry to get back to you that he almost trips over his jeans.

“Down, boy, I’m not going anywhere.” You giggle as he slips under the covers with you.

A sheepish grin tugs at his lips as he clicks off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. You reach for him just as he does for you, your hands bumping together clumsily.

“Scoot closer.” You can almost hear the pout in his voice, eagerly moving forward until his bare chest is pressed against your clothed one.

“Much better,” he hums.

Eddie slots one of his legs between yours, snaking his arms around your waist. There’s no part of you that isn’t completely entangled in him. You can feel his clothed erection pressing into your hip, and that sense of guilt washes over you again.

Knowing you’d left not one, but two guys pent up tonight.

“I’m really sorry for everything tonight,” you whisper into the darkness, feeling his arms tighten around you.

“Hey, don’t do that. You have absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

You nod, but those feelings welling up inside you don’t dissipate. Not completely.

Eddie begins to rub soothing circles over your hip, continuing up your side. Your body tenses as you try to stifle a laugh. The male doesn’t realize that his touch isn’t exactly… soothing. But the further his hand creeps up your side the more you start to squirm and a small gasp leaves your lips.

That sound alone is enough to tip him off, now well aware of what he’s done. You can vaguely make out his mischievous grin in the dark, calculating his next move. Before you have time to react both of his hands are trailing up your sides, tickling you.

“Eddie!” You squeal as your body thrashes in his embrace, rolling you underneath him in the process.

The chain of his necklace dangles in your face, his fingers unrelenting as he pulls giggle after giggle out of you. This is a sound he’d vowed to hear as often as he could, his own laugh mingling with yours.

“S’not f-fair!” you squeak out between fits of laughter before he finally lets up so you can breathe. You’re panting a little, your noses brush against each other.

“I like making you laugh,” he admits, almost shyly. “It’s cute.”

You reach out for his face in the darkness, leaning up to press a gentle kiss to his jaw. You can feel the warmth that’s radiating against your lips, allowing your lips to linger there for a moment.

Coming to the realization that you’d just made Eddie Munson blush brings a wide smile to your face.

“I just want to say thank you for earlier… and for letting me stay the night. I really appreciate it.”

Eddie settles back down next to you on the mattress, your palms resting against his chest. His lips search for yours in the darkness, leaving kisses all over your face in his fumbling attempt to find your lips. Another round of giggles escapes you from the tender gesture.

His ability to make you feel so safe and secure is still so new to you. You don’t want this feeling to end— you never want any of this to end. However, you know this isn’t fair. Eddie doesn’t deserve to be someone’s secret.

But as time passed and this relationship continued to progress, the more you began to realize that you didn’t want to keep him a secret anymore.

“Anytime, sweetheart,” he mumbles, his voice thick with sleep.

You snuggle yourself further against him, limps tangling together. With your ear pressed to his chest, you can hear the steady beat of his heart. The way his breathing starts to slow and become more even.

“Goodnight, Eds,” you whisper, stifling another laugh as a soft snore answers you.

You allow your eyes to slip shut, exhaustion finally overtaking you as his heartbeat continues to lull you to sleep.

Sunlight streaming through the thin curtains is what awoke you that next morning.

A sigh falls from your lips as you attempt to stretch out your overly stiff limbs. Which is when you feel a stirring beneath you. Your eyes fly open as the events of last night trickle back in.

The party, Scott being a grade A asshole, Eddie taking care of you...

If your body wasn’t currently draped over him, you might have convinced yourself it was all a dream. That Eddie dropped you off at home, and you were snuggled beneath your floral bedspread. But to your relief, that clearly isn’t the case.

Your body stills in an attempt not to stir the sleeping metalhead beneath you. At some point during the night you must have gotten yourselves into this position. Laying on his chest, with his arms wrapped securely around your middle. But you don’t mind in the slightest.

In fact, you feel more rested than you have in quite some time. You just wish you could stay like this forever, wrapped up in him and only him. Lifting your head, you rest your chin on your hand and begin to study his sleeping features.

He looks completely at ease.

Faint freckles are scattered across his nose and cheeks, his long lashes fanning over them. His dark curls are wild from sleep, fanned out over his flannel pillowcase. Pouted lips slightly chapped, but kissable all the same. He really is beautiful.

You continue to watch him sleep for a while longer, the morning sun cascading over the tops of his cheekbones. But his breath remains even, small snores slipping out every so often. As you gaze at him, you can’t help but silently scold yourself.

You’re falling for Eddie Munson more and more each day, and you know you can’t keep this up.

You have to end things with Scott.

And as much as you want to stay snuggled up with Eddie, your body has other needs. You don’t exactly know how you’re going to get up without disturbing him, but your bladder is in desperate need of relief.

You sigh as you begin to shimmy further down his body, your legs falling on either side of his hips. A squeak of surprise leaves you as you feel his hard on pressing against your inner thigh through his boxer shorts. It shouldn’t have been that big of a shock to you—morning wood is normal, right?

But you didn’t have much experience with sleepovers of this nature. Despite dating Scott for well over a year, you’ve never spent the night with him like this. So it’s something quite new to you. While you silently ponder over this, Eddie begins to stir again.

A soft moan tumbles past his lips as you accidentally press yourself harder against his boner in an attempt to swing your leg back over the other side of his hip.

“Mm… where do you think you’re going, doll?” His voice is thick with sleep, an octave lower than normal. The gravelly nature of it makes heat shoot between your legs.

You curse softly as you glance up at him, those chocolate hues gazing back at you. Eddie’s fingers splayed across the tops of your thighs, sliding up to encircle your hips. You feel your body flush, his eyes darkening as he looks you over— straddling him, wearing nothing but his shirt.

When he lifts his hips to grind you against him, you can’t stop the whimper that escapes.

“Eds, hold on. I have to pee,” you mumble, feeling embarrassed as his hips still beneath you.

He just lets out a deep laugh as his hands release your hips. You climb over him, quick to scramble off the bed.

“Alright, I guess I’ll allow it,” he teases, the tips of fingers brushing against yours. “Just hurry back, sweetheart.”

Your heart warms at the sight of him, his brown eyes filling with adoration as they look up at you. Leaning over the bed, you press a small kiss to his mouth. A giggle leaves your own as he gives your ass a small pat before you book it to the bathroom.

You feel much better after finally relieving yourself, washing your hands as you glance into the mirror. Your eyes almost sparkle in the muted light, a dopey smile stretched across your face. Is this what it feels like to be in a healthy relationship?

You don’t dwell on it long, far too eager to return back to him. You slip out of the bathroom and tiptoe back to Eddie’s bedroom. Taking extra care to be quiet as you weren’t sure if Wayne has returned home from work yet. And frankly, you’d be mortified if you met him under these conditions—with you clad in only Eddie’s shirt and your panties.

What a great way to make a first impression.

You close his bedroom door behind you slowly, letting the lock click gently into place. You turn back around to face him and lean against the door. Eddie is in the same spot you had left him, only now he’s leaning halfway up on one elbow. That hunger hasn’t left his gaze as he beckons you over with his index finger.

Looking at his hands makes your thighs clench together, knowing all the wonderful things they were capable of. You take your bottom lip between your teeth as you approach him, stopping at the edge of the mattress. Eddie’s fingers ghost over the plush skin of your thighs, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

They continue up until they reach the elastic of your panties. He gives you a look, silently asking for permission. You guide his fingers beneath the fabric, aiding him in sliding them down your legs. As you step out of the material, your eyes glance back up to meet his.

“Come here.”

It’s spoken softly, but the command in his voice makes your breath hitch.

You move on instinct, your desire fueling your actions as you straddle his hips. There’s a fluidity in your movements as you rest your hands on his chest. Your manicured nails gently trail over his stomach, watching the lust continue to swirl behind his irises.

While this wasn’t a position you’d dabbled in up to this point, the way he’s regarding you has your confidence flourishing. He wants you, and he wants you badly.

At this point you’d give him the moon and the stars if he asked.

Once you’re settled on top of him, you can feel how his cock strains against the fabric of his boxers. Testing the waters, you glide yourself along his shaft, his hands reaching up to encircle your waist. He simply rests them there, allowing you to take the lead.

The worn cotton of his briefs provides some much needed friction against your clit. You bite down on your lip in an attempt to keep a moan from slipping out. But the male isn’t having any of that. He reaches his hand up to remove your lower lip from between your teeth.

His calloused thumb brushes over your mouth, slipping the digit past your lips.

“No need to be shy, sweetheart. I wanna hear you.”

You nod your head, humming as your tongue swirls around his thumb. You eagerly suck it deeper into your mouth, which pulls a low groan from him. But Eddie can only take so much of your teasing, removing his thumb to grip back onto your hips. Your lower lip juts out in a small pout, which causes him to chuckle.

“Now none of that, or I’ll give you something to pout about,” he quips, giving your ass a warning smack.

The hint of a threat in his tone has you whimpering, guiding your hips harder along his shaft.

You grip the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, beginning to lift it over your hips but he stops you. A brow raising as you look down at him.

“Fuck, keep it on,” he says with a groan. “Wanna see you riding me in it.”

His confession has you feeling timid, letting your hands settle back at your sides. Eddie’s fingers begin to trail over the top of your thigh, before dipping between them. His digits glide between your slick folds, brushing over your bundle of nerves. It causes your breath to hitch, eagerly grinding your hips back against his fingertips.

“Eddie, please,” you breathe.

“Use your words, pretty girl,” he hums. “Tell me what you want.”

Impatience gnawed at you as you lifted your hips, your fingers dipping past the waistband of his boxers. You tug them down to release his cock from their confines, your actions surprising you both. As much as you loved when he touched you, your body was already craving more.

Wrapping your palm around the base of his shaft, he groans. His jaw slackens as he watches you guide the tip through your drenched folds. Nudging it against your clit once…twice…a third time.

Before you finally line him up with your entrance, guiding your hips down.

“Shit, hold on doll, need a condom.”

Eddie holds you in place with one hand, as the other reaches over into his night side table. He’s blindly searching for one of the foil packets when you blurt out, “I don’t want it. Need you to fuck me raw, Ed.”

Your words stop him in his tracks, eyes widening in almost disbelief. You suddenly feel nervous, praying you didn’t just ruin everything with your admission.

“Are you sure? I-I wouldn’t want to risk…” he trails off, licking his lips as he regards you with a somewhat guarded expression.

You nod, leaning forward to whisper in his ear, “I’m on the pill. I just… I want you to be the first one to do it, Eddie.”

His groan rumbles through his chest, the implication behind your words only makes him want you more. Scott never got to do this.

This is something that would be his, and his alone.

His hand cradles the back of your neck, guiding your face towards his. Crashes his lips against yours, the desperation behind them telling you his resounding answer. But you want to hear him say it. Nipping at his lower lip, you pull away to sit back up and rest your palms on his chest.

The male is panting beneath you, his flustered expression only causes your confidence to grow. A smirk adorns your features as Eddie lifts his hips upward in an attempt to grind them into yours, but you push back against his hip to stop the movement.

“Nuh uh, handsome,” you purr, your fingertips gliding through the hair just below his navel. “Tell me what you want. Use your words.”

Eddie’s brain nearly short circuits as you use his former words against him. A slew of curses tumbles from his lips as you grasp his cock in your hand, rubbing it through your folds but not yet breaching the entrance. Awaiting his response as you continue to tease him, feeling his fingers grasping onto your ass.

“Fuck, I wanna come inside you so bad, sweetheart,” he whines.

You hum in approval, leaning back down to press a sloppy kiss to his mouth. Eddie instantly reciprocates, his tongue working its way past your lips. You teasingly suck the muscle into your mouth before pulling away. A string of saliva connects you as you sit up fully. Eddie curses again, his hands gripping onto your ass even harder.

“Fuck— come on, please.”

Hearing Eddie Munson beg is what finally breaks your resolve, slowly sinking down onto his cock.

It didn’t matter how many times you’ve had him, he always made you feel so full. This time feels…different, though. It’s as though you can feel every vein and ridge of his cock caressing your inner walls, the sensation has you gasping. Your body stills once he’s fully sheathed inside you, letting your palms splay across his chest.

“That’s it, takin’ me so good, doll,” he grunts as his head falls back against the pillow. His praise has you beaming.

You stay like that for a moment until you become familiar with the feeling of him inside you again. Beginning to lift your hips slowly, his cock nearly slipping out of you completely. As you begin to lower yourself onto him again, his face contorts in pleasure—now hiding those beautiful irises from you.

“Eddie… baby. Look at me,” you coo.

The pet name slips past your lips almost too easily, enjoying the way it sounds on your tongue. Eddie’s eyes snap back open to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, the black nearly swallowing the brown of his irises whole. The male peers up at you in a mixture of lust and awe as you continue to take him deeper.

If he could watch you ride him all day, he would.

However, your leisurely pace is starting to drive him insane. The brunette begins to buck his hips up into yours, swift but deep thrusts that take you by surprise. A moan gets caught in your throat as he rams into your sweet spot, eyes rolling back into your head. Witnessing your visceral reaction, he continues to repeat the action as your chest starts to heave.

“Christ, you look so pretty with my cock inside you, baby,” he moans, his fingers digging harder into your hips.

Any thoughts of remaining quiet are thrown out the window the moment he speaks. A loud moan rips itself from your throat, filling the silence of his bedroom. His praise has your walls tightening around his shaft, your head falling forward as you open your eyes. A smug look adorns his features, eyes falling to where your bodies connect.

He looks so good like this— underneath you, eyes wide and his cheeks beautifully flushed.

“You like that don’t you? My pretty girl…”

The sound that leaves you is borderline pornographic, nails digging into his shoulders as you ride him faster. You can’t disguise the way your body reacts to being called his, your arousal making a slippery mess between your bodies.

You reach for him, coaxing him up until your chests are pressed together. Lips find each other instantly, tangling your fingers in his already wild locks. One of his hands travels between you, rubbing at your swollen bud.

“Fuck— Eddie,” you cry out as he massages your clit faster, simultaneously bucking his hips up into you.

You meet each of his thrusts by slamming your hips back down, thighs burning with the effort. One more brutal thrust into your cervix has you seeing stars, your head burying itself into the crook of his neck. You bite down onto the flesh of his shoulder to muffle a loud cry.

Your thighs tremble as your body slumps forward—unable to continue.

But Eddie keeps going, chasing his own end as he guides you further along his cock. He isn’t able to hold off much longer, as the constant fluttering of your walls becomes his undoing. He spills inside you with a deep grunt as you cling onto his biceps.

The male soon collapses into you, his chest heaving as he captures your lips together. You sigh into his mouth as he holds you tightly against him, breathing the air back into your lungs. You stay like that for a moment, locked together in the most intimate way possible.

Eddie carefully ushers your hips upward, coaxing you back onto the mattress. You whimper softly, already missing the feeling of him inside you. His cum has begun to drip onto the bed sheets as he kneels before you, spreading your legs so he can admire the mess he’s made.

Eddie’s eyes are still wide with lust as he takes in the sight of you, dipping his fingers between your thighs to gather some of his cum on the digits. He slowly eases them back inside your entrance in an attempt to keep anything else from spilling out. You whine his name, reaching out for him as he gently removes his fingers from your center.

The male presses multiple kisses to your shaky thighs before he crawls his way back up your body. Just as he goes to wipe his fingers on his sheets you grab onto his wrist, slipping the digits past your lips.

“Jesus Christ, sweetheart,” he mumbles, feigning hurt when you playfully nibble on his fingers. He starts to pull away, ignoring your pout as he gets off up off the bed. You’re about to protest but he hushes you with a kiss. “I’ll be right back.”

Eddie quickly fixes his boxers before he slips out of his bedroom, returning moments later with a damp washcloth. He’s back between your legs, gently cleaning up the dried arousal on your thighs. He takes his time, making sure every inch of your skin is clean before he tosses the dirty rag in his overflowing laundry basket.

Eddie helps you into a sitting position as he cups your cheek, thumb brushing over your lower lip. He smiles fondly at you, dimple indenting his cheek as a familiar look flashes through his eyes. The one you had noticed the week prior when you were draped across his chest in your bedroom. A look he seems to give you almost every time you’re together now.

You still aren’t sure what exactly it means. All you do know is that you want to see more of it.

Eddie tries to hide it as he presses a kiss to your nose, chuckling as you scrunch it beneath his lips. “You hungry? I’m not the best cook, but I can definitely whip you up a nice omelet?”

You beam at him, nodding your head as he gets up to rummage through his dresser drawers. He eventually finds a pair of shorts for you to wear, handing you the garment as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants. You glance down at the ground, attempting to look for your discarded panties, only to come up short.

“Eddie? Have you seen my panties?” You sigh, beginning to look through the clothes scattered across the floor. Hearing him chuckle you glance up, a small smirk stretching across his lips. It’s then that you notice the black lacy fabric clutched in his fist.

“These are mine now, sweetheart,” he winks, tucking them into his bedside table.

You feel a little flustered as you pull the shorts up over your legs, playfully swatting his chest as you stand. Eddie just laughs, pulling you into arms and kissing you again. He eagerly threads your fingers together, leading you out of the room.

However, once he begins to guide you through the trailer— there's only one thing on your mind.

Scotty has got to go.

sdk taglist: @xxbimbobunnyxx @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @transparentenemypenguin @calumfmu @vamp-bunny @eddiesxangel @nailbatanddungeon @deathst9r @comeonatmebruh

#the freak writes 🫧 #my series: scotty doesn’t know 🫧 #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader

[desperatecheesecubes]

This is such a good example of their relationship: Bruce saves Jason at the cost of himself, Jason attempts to get a rise out of Bruce to deflect his own vulnerability, realizes that Bruce is Not OK (TM) and immediately attempts to bridge the gap that he himself perpetuates, but Bruce has already moved to his next target and just leaves Jason there.

#the fact that Jason is getting left in the wreckage is making me feral #yeah yeah that’s how it is #there is so much still there in the bond for both of them #but Jason can’t ever let his walls down #And Bruce can’t ever let anyone be his singular priority anymore #it’s all those ways Jason’s death ruined both of them #jason todd #bruce wayne #mine #not me going off in the tags #Batman eternal 50 #i can’t believe y’all got this to 1k #oh good lord now it’s at 1.5k #holy fuck we’re at 2k #i ain’t got nothing for 2.5k #3k my bewildered

[sanguineterrain]

restroom attendant | jason todd

Summary: Tonight is the worst night ever--you just got dumped on your birthday, and all you want to do is cry in the restaurant bathroom in peace. That is, until, the Red Hood bursts in. This city just won't cut you a break.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: humor, mild angst, reader's ex-bf cheats and dumps her, jason is such a silly goose, flirting, meet ugly, canon-typical violence, awkward jason, comic relief dick grayson.

A/N: this is probably the silliest fic i've ever written LOL! i hope you guys enjoy it. please support your local jason todd enthusiast and reblog :)

the divider

Tonight sucks. 

With a shaky hand, you attempt to soothe your swollen eyes. You’ve probably been in here for about twenty minutes. Your Uber has definitely left, as has your now ex-boyfriend of three years. 

Yoga instructor. It’s always the yoga instructor. They’re always fucking the yoga instructor.

You swallow a mouthful of tears and phlegm and try not to let the wet sink touch your dress. All you’d wanted was a little class on your birthday, maybe have some wine and play footsie under the table with your boyfriend. But no. That would’ve been too easy for you. 

You’re starting to think this city is cursed.

The door slams open. The force of it shakes the bathroom, rattles the mirrors. You spin around.

A man slides across the floor and smacks his head on the opposite wall. Red Hood appears in the doorway, the eyes of his helmet glowing eerily. 

Yep. Definitely cursed.

"Let's try this again," Hood says pleasantly, reloading his gun with a fresh magazine. "And in the interest of making myself transparent: when I ask you a question, Jerry, I expect a truthful answer."

He stalks over to Jerry and heaves him up by the lapels of his suit jacket. Hood's biceps bulge as he holds Jerry against the wall. You squish yourself against the sink. Water soaks the back of your dress. 

"You're crazy, I didn't do anything!" Jerry shouts, feet barely scraping the floor. 

"Volume, Jerry. People are trying to enjoy their meals.”

“Let go of me, Hood! I wasn’t anywhere near the Iceberg Lounge!”

“Yeah, see, words are coming outta your mouth, but they don't match the fact that I have three people who put you at the scene. How can we remedy this inconsistency? Any ideas?"

Jerry squirms, but he's no match for Hood's strength. Your heart pounds in your chest.

"Don't give me to the cops!" Jerry begs. 

"Cops are the least of your worries right now," Hood snarls. "You're damn lucky Nightwing wants to talk to you, Jerry, or your head would hurt a lot more."

Slowly, you reach for your purse, trying to pull out your phone. Instead, you knock it to the floor. Tears gather in your eyes because this night just can’t cut you a break.

“Motherfucker,” you whisper. 

Hood turns, those frightening white eyes now on you. Jerry also looks at you, legs still dangling.

“Hey,” Hood says without a sign of struggle. “Shit. Y'alright? Did I swipe ya?”

“No,” you say, voice shaky.

His posture softens. “Okay. I’m not gonna hurt you. Don’t be afraid.”

“I believe you. But, um… you're in the women's bathroom.”

Red Hood gives the room a onceover. 

“Huh. So we are. Dunno how that happened.” He shakes Jerry by the collar. “Why’d you run into the women’s bathroom, asshole?”

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Don't kill me!” Jerry wails. 

“Shut it, Jesus. I'm not gonna kill you. Not yet, anyway.” 

“It's fine, I was just leaving,” you say, bending down to get your purse. 

“Hey, no, don't let me push you out,” Hood says. “Sorry. I'll be gone in a couple minutes.”

Hood adjusts his grip so Jerry's face is against the wall, arms and legs restrained. Then he zipties Jerry and sits him down hard on the floor. Hood presses a button on his helmet. 

“Yo, N, I'm at Prescott's. Yeah, with Jerry. No, I didn't tell him to run in here, he did that all on his own! Well, I chased him for ten blocks, so I’d prefer if you’d keep your bitching to yourself. Thank you… Okay, we're in the women's bathroom, so—well, I didn't do it on purpose! No, I’m—will you just come here? There’s a side window.” Hood presses the button again with a grunt. “Dickhead.”

“Are you gonna erase my memory?” you ask. 

Hood jerks, turning back to you.

“What? Hell no, I'm not gonna erase your memory. I don't do that shit, I promise.”

You slump against the sink. “That's too bad. I would prefer it.”

He looks up from Jerry’s last ziptie and pulls it extra tight. Jerry whimpers. 

“How come?” Hood asks.

You shake your head. “It's nothing.”

“Hm. Doesn't look like nothing. If you're in danger—”

“I'm not in danger. I…”

You glance at Hood. You can't see his face, but his body language seems genuine. From what you've heard, Hood isn't known for mincing words or doing things he doesn't want to. And he’s good to Gothamites. Well, the law-abiding ones, anyway. He’s even been endorsed by Batman.

What's the harm in telling him about your disastrous night? Not like you'll see him again. Or Jerry. 

“I got dumped,” you say. 

“Ah.” Hood nods. “Been there.”

Somehow, the idea of Red Hood getting dumped is weirder than him beating up a guy in the women’s bathroom of Prescott’s.

You sniffle, and wipe your eyes with the back of your hand. 

“Yeah, um. It was our three year anniversary today. He took me here, told me he was in love with his yoga instructor, and then left.”

You tear up thinking about it. Hood makes a quiet noise.

“Shit. Well, I haven't been there,” he says. “But I know infidelity. I'm sorry. Dudes are trash.”

“And it's my birthday today,” you blurt, sniffling. 

“Happy birthday,” Jerry says, clutching his stomach. 

“What a fucking asshole!” Hood snarls, and lets go of Jerry, who crumples like a sack of potatoes. He’s out cold in a second, frozen on the floor.

Your brows rise. “Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. It’s his first time in Gotham.” Hood shrugs. “Anyway, where was I? Right, your asshole ex. Like it's not enough to publicly dump you, and then he goes and does it on your birthday? Who is this guy? I'll go talk to him right now.”

You laugh a loud, snorting laugh. It bounces off the tiles. 

Hood tilts his head. “What’d I say?”

You catch your breath and wave your hand. 

“No, nothing, I’m sorry. I’ve just had a crappy night and that’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever offered to me.”

“I mean it,” Hood says. “I’ll scare him if you want.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t want to be an accessory to a crime.”

You also don’t want to put your ex in the ICU, no matter how much he might deserve it. Best to let the universe do its thing.

“You’d be acquitted, don’t worry.” Hood leans against the stall. “I’d never letcha go to jail.”

You smile, your ears growing warm. “You don’t even know me. What if I deserve it?”

“Nah. I got a good sense about people. I can tell you’re sweet. Probably don’t even run through red lights.”

“I try not to,” you say, heat spreading to your face. 

“Yeah, a good girl. I figured as much.”

Your eyes widen. Hood coughs and rubs his neck. Even his coughs sound intimidating through the helmet, but that’s negated by his scrunched-up posture.

“Fuck. Sorry. That wasn’t a come-on,” he says. “I mean, it sounded like one, but I’m realizing what a creep I am, flirting with you in a bathroom with a zip-tied criminal. Sorry.” He shakes his head. “I hate myself.”

You grin. “It’s okay. You made my night better, actually. Thanks.”

“That’s a testament to how terrible your night’s been if I made it better.”

You shrug. “Could always be worse. I bet Jerry had an even shittier night than me.”

“You’d win that bet. But I—”

The window swings open with a clunk. Nightwing pops his head in. He looks at Hood, then you. 

“Uh,” he says. “Evening. What’s going on?”

“What’s going on is it took you almost ten minutes to get here,” Hood says, back in Vigilante Mode. “Did you get lost?”

Nightwing smiles with all his teeth. “I was actually cleaning up your mess at the Bowery, Hood. You’re welcome.” 

He looks at you. “Hi. Sorry about this. I hope we didn’t ruin your night. If there’s anything we can reimburse you for…”

You shake your head. “It’s okay. My night was already sunk. Don’t worry about it. Thanks for keeping Gotham safe.”

Nightwing laughs. “The pleasure is ours.”

“Alright, enough chattering, Dickwing,” Hood says. “Take him.”

He lifts the unconscious Jerry, pushing him up to the window. He does so effortlessly, his jacket riding up to reveal his skin-tight jumpsuit. 

You look away before he catches you staring. There’s definitely something wrong with you. 

Nightwing takes Jerry and waves at you. Then he disappears.

“So, uh,” Hood says. “I gotta go.”

“Oh! Right, of course. Sorry to keep you.”

“Now what’re you apologizing for?” he asks, and it almost sounds like a tease. You wonder what his smile looks like. What color his eyes are.

“Well, I really didn’t mean to keep you…”

“You didn’t keep me,” Hood says, and you can hear the warmth even through his decoder. “This is probably the best arrest I’ve ever made.”

He starts to climb through the window, then stops. He digs into one of the pockets of his belt and pulls out a scrap of paper. 

“This is my number,” he says. “Well, it’s kind of the vigilante hotline. But you can reach me here, in case you ever need help.”

Hood walks over to give it to you. He smells like gunpowder and oranges. He’s even larger this close, the width of his shoulders dwarfing you. 

“Thank you,” you say quietly. 

He nods and backs up, clapping his hands.

“Right. So I’ll go… Bye.”

Hood looks at you for a moment more. Then he hops up onto the window sill and slides out, somehow graceful despite his bulk. The window closes. 

Your dress has dried, which is nice. You walk out of the bathroom. It’s a miracle no one else has come in. 

You get your coat and this time, when you see the empty seat across from yours, you don’t burst into tears, which is progress. You call another Uber and go to wait for it at the front. The hostess approaches you.

“Ma’am?” she says, and holds out a small, plastic container. In it is a slice of tiramisu. 

“I didn’t order this,” you say.

“It was called in and paid for by a Mr. R.H. He wishes you a happy birthday.” 

“Oh. Thank you.”

You’re definitely leaving a five-star review on Yelp.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #batman fanfiction #dc fanfiction #jason todd reader insert

[deadsetobsessions]

Jason cursed. This is on par for most of his evenings, as it was rare that he ever got a peaceful night. However, this? This takes the goddamn cake and smashes it on his face.

Red Hood stood, with a portable wet vacuum in his halo bed hands, cursing everything in the world as he cleaned and followed the small puddles of Lazarus water. The people in the streets give him a wide berth, having long learned the intricacies of Red101: if the Red Hood is doing weird shit but there’s no gun in his hand, you make sure you’re not the reason he’ll have a gun in his hand.

“O, you there?”

“Copy.”

“Mark this priority, would you?” His voice is tense, pissed. “Some bastard’s dripping Lazarus water all over my territory.”

A pause.

Oracle’s calm voice flowed through his helmet, “Then we’ll have to watch out for League influence. I’ll let the others know. Red Robin?”

Red Robin chimed in, “Yeah, already on it. It’s weird though, Ra’s isn’t supposed to be here for another two and a half weeks.”

“And how would you know about my grandfather’s movements?”

“Careful, Robin, I might become your grandma!” Red Robin chirped sadistically, before clicking off his comms, snickering at Robin’s spluttering.

“Jesus fuck. I’ll try to hunt down the bastard from the ground. O?”

“Can’t help you. The cameras around your area has been scrambled for the last half an hour.”

“Shit.” Red Hood tensed, one hand going for his pistol as the street’s current inhabitants wisely vacated the area.

“Hood. Don’t go in alone. It could be a trap.”

“Whatever, B, you’re not the boss of me.”

“Give me three minutes. I’m close by. Do not go in without back up, little wing.” Nightwing piped in, and Red Hood could hear the faint whooshing noises of a quiet grapple.

“Cass and I are close by as well. Staking out a place but we could be on standby if needed.”

Two taps. Cass’ tacit agreement.

“Got it.”

When Nightwing gets there, they follow the trail into a dead end with no sign of any scaling of the wall or secret passages.

“Fuck! What the fuck are we chasing, a ghost?”

“Don’t even joke like that-” Nightwing said. “You’ll set Red off again.”

Jason kicked at the wall.

“Fuck!”

——

On the other side of the wall, thirty minutes earlier:

“Life is like a hurricane, here in Duckberg…” Danny mumbled as he stumbled away. He’d saved his alley kids from a pretty serious mugging that ended with a stabbing that Danny foolishly allowed to touch him because he wanted to keep the wicked looking knife. Normally, he’d be able to brush this off, but with his recent injuries, mental stress, and the lack of food that is the hallmark of a homeless teenager, Danny barely kept himself conscious as he stumbled into a particularly dense in ectoplasm dead end.

“Napping place… napping place…” Danny mumbled before eyeing the brick wall. Yeah, okay, he’s slept in weirder places. He could sleep in the dumpster, but… he’d smell and Danny could not handle an infection. So, he went intangible, invisible, and pulled the knife out of his body. As he settled in (quite literally into) the stone wall for his nap, Danny manages to mold his ectoplasm to hold his cut up stomach together.

Danny allows sleep to take him, blissfully unaware of the glowing green puddles of ghost blood he’d left behind.

——

Jason, terrified: he’s in the walls!! He’s in the fucking walls!

Danny, quoting vines and tiktoks while napping in walls for that back support option: thanks for checking in! I’m still a piece of GaRBaGe.

#batman #danny phantom #dc x dp #bruce wayne #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #red hood #nightwing #bamf danny phantom #spoiler #cassandra cain #black bat #Stephanie brown #Oracle #barbara gordon #ghost blood=cleaner Lazarus pit water #red hood looking like a single mother as he walks down the street with a vacuum.

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist: https://www.instagram.com/twalxxart/ Twalxx

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. There has been an emergency and you have been called into the line of fire. You have been injured by the Black Mask, how will Jason react?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, mentions of gunshots and death

Word Count: 2.4k

Masterlist

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part 9: If I Have to Throw You Over My Shoulder I Will

***********************************************************

Jason Todd

[Jason, please we need backup. We need you.] Dick had sent about ten minutes ago. 

Some dark part of me wanted to do nothing. The part of me that was tortured and beaten. The part of me that was angry no one cared enough to avenge me. But I loved Dick like he was my flesh and blood. And whether I admit it to myself or not… I love Bruce the same way.

Often I think about how my life led me down this way. Was it fate? Was it God? Was it just dumb fucking luck? 

There is one theory I keep circling back to. The Red String Theory. At birth, we have invisible red strings tying us to the people we are destined to meet. Was I tied to my parents? Bruce? Alfred? Dick? Tim? Barbara? Steph? Cass? Damian? Duke? Or even… him? 

That’s too many. If that’s true, my fate lines look more like a messy evidence board. Or maybe a fucked up marionette puppet. Like I was made to be influenced by those tied to me. Pushed and pulled. Just a vessel of violence. 

But the Red String Theory couldn’t be true. At least not for me. I’m so covered in red. You can’t pull a red thread out of a sea of blood.

My morbid thoughts halted when I saw Pizza Joe’s. I parked off to the side. In an alley, no one could see. I approached the gunshots, listening for Dick. Boy Wonder was nowhere to be seen, but I made mental notes of the men that were perched on the buildings. 

I made my way discreetly around the building, toward the back. My heart stopped dead in my chest.

Y/n was pinned against the wall. With a gun in her mouth. Fighting with everything in her against the Black Mask.

Something in me snapped. Without hesitation I shot twice at his arm, severing the flexor digitorum profundus and rendering his index and middle finger useless. I shot through his stupid fucking masked head. I shot through his heart. I shot through the bastard's fucking dick. I shot. And I shot. And I shot. No one hurts her. Ever.

I barely noticed Bruce as I stepped over him. I could have checked his pulse, his status, anything. But all I cared about was getting to her. 

Anger and fear surged inside me, at the sight of seeing her covered in blood. I started to panic. My chest felt like one thousand pounds of pressure was crushing me. All I could do to calm myself down was to pull her into my arms and hug her tight enough that I felt her heartbeat against mine. She’s alive. She’s alive. She’s alive.

I had stayed away from her this past week. Trying to keep her safe from whatever bullshit I would bring her. But here she was finding the danger all on her own. Without me to make sure she was safe.

Seeing her face, feeling her against my body, lit something up inside me. Anger surged.

“Why the fuck are you here?” I growled.

***********************************************************

Jason grabbed my chin, slowly moving it from side to side, inspecting my blood-spattered face. His mouth was moving but all I could hear was the damn ringing in my skull. Jason frowned and looked at both my ears. I felt a warmth run down the left side of my neck. 

Jason leaned into my right side, his cold helmet brushed against the shell of my ear making me shiver. “You’re hurt.” The words were simple. But they were laced with bitterness and anger that went beyond reason.

I looked up at his Red Hood, “Dick needs your help.” I couldn’t tell if I was screaming the words or saying them at a reasonable volume. I couldn’t gauge Jason’s reaction either which annoyed me. I wanted to rip that helmet off and see his face. 

“I’m looking at someone that needs my full attention right now. Grayson can handle himself,” he snarled the words at me. 

Gunshots sounded loud enough for me to hear. My brain started spiraling into the worst-case scenario. A Dick Grayson riddled with bullets involuntarily entered my mind. “Please help him. Please, Jason.” I grabbed his arm as I begged. His bicep tensed under my grip. 

“I’m not leaving you alone,” he ground out. “Get behind me.” Despite his harsh tone, he gently moved me behind him. His broad shoulders and generous height covered me completely. I kept a hand at the base of his hip. Ready to heal him if needed. 

There were four shooters surrounding Dick, and three on the buildings, all pointing their guns at him. Jason opened a pocket on his thigh and reloaded his right gun one-handed. He was so smooth with the movement it was like he was doing something simple like buttering toast. He was dexterous at a level I can only describe as masterful. 

Jason aimed at an impossible speed and precision. Seven shots rang out. Seven men fell. I don’t even think they realized Jason was enemy fire until they already had a bullet fly through them. It was seemingly impossible. 

Jason didn’t give me a chance to assess Dick or Bruce before throwing me over his shoulder and walking away.

“I need to help them! Jason! Jason, listen to me!” I yelled and slapped the back of his leather jacket. He ignored me or I didn’t hear his response. Knowing him, most likely the former.

Suddenly, he moved me off his shoulder and straddled me onto his motorcycle. My mind was acutely aware of his large hands pinning my waist down.

“Grayson is fine. He will take care of Bruce and your car. I’m taking you home. Now.” He was leaning toward my good ear again, his voice was dark and commanding. Lighting a certain part of me on fire. Who am I kidding, my whole being burned. 

“I am fine, Jason. Really. You got there in time. Just let me heal the boys and I’ll go with you!” I sneered at him.

“How about no,” Jason sneered back and straddled onto the motorcycle behind me. His firm body was flush against the entire back side of mine. My breathing became uneven when he reached his arms around me and revved his motorcycle before accelerating. I tried not to lean back into him. But he was so warm and I was so tired. Jason must have felt my tension. His hand found my hip, as he continued steering with the other. He pushed back, forcing my body to melt into his. 

“I’ve got you,” he said, making me shiver. 

Gotham was a blur of lights as Jason drove us back to the Batcave. In a record, 6 minutes. Which I tried not to take personally.

He rode us through the entrance, and as close as he could get to my workstation. He got off quickly as if trying to get away from me. But just as quickly scooped me up from my underarms and placed me on top of my examination table. I blushed at the firm way he moved me around. Like I was his to just grab and move as he pleased. He was an extremely strong man. He made it seem like it was no effort at all. 

He roughly took off the Red Hood. His hair was a wild mess. His eyes were dark with what appeared to be anger and concern. His breathing quickened as he looked me over.

“What blood is yours?” He curtly asked, messily digging into my neat supplies. I tried not to cringe as he did. With his mask off it was a lot easier to understand him because I could read his lips and vaguely hear him.

I looked down at my red-stained hands. I curled them up and down. The blood was sticky and cracked. Suddenly, an assault of memories flooded my mind.

The hospital wing after the mass shooting—healing a man being tortured over and over for information—my mom's bloody nose—my bloody legs dripping into my sneakers. Breathing became sharp and rushed. 

A hand gently caressed my face, “Hey, hey. It’s just me. It’s Jason,” his voice and touch was gentle. Easing my mind back to reality. When I was no longer trapped in my own mind I realized that Jason was once again cleaning up my hands. He washed the blood off of them until you never knew I had stabbed a man in the neck. 

His hands were warm and calloused and thorough. For a moment he just held my hands in his. His thumb traced small circles on the inside of my wrist causing goosebumps to rise on my skin. Slowly, he trailed upward to my forearm, and an angry sigh left his mouth. Wordlessly, he cleaned and tended my cut. Wordlessly, he wiped the blood and brain matter from my face and neck. Wordlessly, he took off my stained hoodie and disgusting scrubs. Until I was left in my white undershirt and tight black shorts. 

His eyes were hard and staring just above the curve of my breast. Right where my heart rapidly beat. Right where the Black Mask had made a small but deep cut. And then his eyes trailed upward. Toward my bruised neck, and burned cheek. 

“I should have killed him slower,” he growled out. I hadn’t realized how close Jason was to me. Somehow he had gotten between my legs and mere inches away from my face. My cheeks heated, as I took in the oddly delicate features of this harsh man. He had a very light sprinkling of freckles across his nose. His eyes were more of a stormy gray than blue. His eyelashes were so pretty and long I wanted to slap him. And his Cupid’s bow was sharp and defined which highlighted his full lips. I swallowed roughly. 

“Thank you, for—for helping me,” I whispered, afraid that if I spoke any louder I might scare him off. 

Jason scoffed angrily, “You shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place. I’m going to beat Bruce with an inch of his life—”

Gently, I gripped Jason’s hand, “I chose this. Don’t be mad at Bruce. If anything, be mad at me. I should have been more prepared. I should have brought a weapon.” 

Jason leaned his forehead in so it was just barely touching mine. I involuntarily held my breath. 

His hands reached for mine as he traced along my old burns. “We are bad for you.” He whispered. 

“You guys have given me a part of myself that I thought was lost forever. How could that ever be bad?” I lifted a hand hesitantly up toward his cheek. Jason leaned in like he was desperate for the contact. For comfort. For me. 

“I can’t get you out of my head. I want—” Jason’s soft words were interrupted by the screeching of my car followed by the Batmobile. Jason practically jumped five feet away from me. I frowned at the lack of contact.

Well, Bruce is well enough to drive, that’s good. Pretty fucking shit timing though, Batboy. 

I lowered myself from the table. I tried hiding my wince, but I saw Jason tense. He reached forward steadying me, before scolding, “Do not push yourself for them.” 

Dick came out of my car with a large dimpled smile and a huge ugly shinner. Bruce looked pale but better. I motioned for them to sit where I was just perched. Ready to finish healing them.

Bruce was simple. I just had to re-patch him up. Finish what I started. Dick was a bit more complicated. Homie had the snot beat out of him. One of the bright sides was that he wasn't shot. 

When I was done, both Dick and Bruce politely excused themselves to their rooms. 

I slowly cleaned up my workstation. Jason silently helped me. His mouth was a firm line. 

My hands shook with exhaustion when I was done. My eyes went in and out of focus. My head was pounding from the exertion and the physical trauma. I covered my bad ear, trying to will the ringing to stop. Jason noticed and gently pulled me to him. Before I knew it he had his arm under my knees and back, and he cradled me into the elevator.

I snorted at him, “I’m fine, Jason, really. Don’t go through the trouble of carrying me.”

“I think I want to rip that word out of your vocabulary,” he snapped. “Let me just carry you. Don’t make it a big deal.”

My heart sank, and I whispered, “Okay. I’m sorry.”

“While I’m at it, I’ll take that one too,” he said, pressing the button number 4. Our floor number. “Don’t lie to me and tell me you’re fine. Don’t ever apologize for existing.” He huffed and paused, “Please.”

I nodded, not sure what to say. The elevator ride went by shockingly quickly. He walked past his room and into mine. He set me down on my bed gently. He pulled my blankets back and covered me. I got deja vu as he did it. I smiled under my covers. 

Jason pulled an armchair towards my bed. He angled it so he could see both the door and the windows. I looked at him, confused. 

He shrugged at me, “I didn’t like seeing a man have a gun in your mouth. I actually don’t think I saw it for more than two seconds before everything went red.”

“So, that explains why you’re watching me in my armchair because…”

Hashbrown barrelled toward Jason. She rubbed her body on his feet demanding attention. Jason swiftly picked her up and held her on his lap. She seemed to soothe him as he pet her. The tension in his body decreased, instead of ramrod straight he leaned back. Almost comfortable, but not quiet. 

“Because I need to make sure that you’re okay,” he said after a few minutes went by. 

“Why?” I asked, needing an answer. 

“I don’t like it when you’re hurt. Or in danger,” he answered. 

“Why?” I demanded, again. 

He roughly raked a hand through his messy hair, “I don’t know why. I just feel like… like you’re mine to protect. You put all your energy into healing other people. You deserve someone to care if you’re healthy and safe.” 

I think only two people in the world have ever cared about that. Sam and my mom. His words were like wildfire to my mind and body. 

Warmth bloomed in my chest, followed by boldness, “Do you have to protect me from all the way over there? Or can you protect me in my bed?”

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno @killxz @morpheus-girl @redhood414 @bungunz @conicoroahre @greenyofthegreens @taytaylala12 @theroyalmanatee @nym-0-s @sarahskywalker-amadala @bonesbonesetc @dreaming-of-the-reality @gone-batty-fics @thescarletcryptid @bakugosgf2005 @irregular-child @vythika96 @greenyofthegreens @mythicalmo @eccentricarabella-blog @princessbl0ss0m @ghostindeath @whirlwind2005 @the-lights-are-loud @00hellohello00 @tfygcdy @theblindhag @murkyponds @midnightecko @crookedmakerfury @cosmicqueenieb @deans-spinster-witch @princessbl0ss0m

If I missed anyone please let me know <3

Author's note: Thank you all so much for your kind words, comments, messages, and interactions!! They inspire me to keep writing. I hope you guys continue to enjoy the story, thank you again <3

Hashbrown Cam!

#batman #batfam #batfamily #jason todd #dick grayson #barbara gordon #duke thomas #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #nightwing #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #x reader #female x reader #whump #whumptober 2023 #whump writing #dc comics #dc universe #dc fanfic #fluff #angst

[unclewaynemunson]

Eddie knows he shouldn't be doing this. He knows the risk, he knows the danger, he knows how stupid it is. But the thing is, he's never been good at avoiding risks or not being stupid. So here he is, pressing Ray against the wall of the Hideout, because he's five beers and three tequila shots in, and he wants it, no, he needs it, he needs to feel something to make that gnawing feeling in his chest go away, and Ray is available and willing and honestly not too bad considering the size of the queer dating pool around a town like Hawkins.

'Eddie.' Ray pulls back in a somewhat half-hearted attempt to slow him down. 'We're not at some gay club in Indy, man, you shouldn't –'

'Shouldn't I?' Eddie interrupts him. 'What if I don't care that we're not in Indy?' His lips find Ray's again, and Ray doesn't make any other attempts to cease what they're doing, so he supposes it's all good and presses his whole body as close to Ray's as he possibly can. He's swaying on his feet a little bit and his head is spinning, but Ray's arms around his back are keeping him steady enough – until a sudden blow lands against his shoulder and he finds himself stumbling backwards.

Fuck. He should've known, of course. Something about not taking risks, right?

‘The hell are you doing, freak?’

He blinks rapidly to get the blurry blonde-haired face opposite him into his focus.

‘What does it look like we’re doing?’ he scoffs.

It’s Jason Carver, he now realizes, because of-fucking-course it is. The guy brusquely shoves him against the wall; beside him, he hears Ray utter a scared gasp. He blindly grabs Ray’s wrist, because no matter the haze in his brain, he still thinks he should probably do something to comfort the guy - and he watches Jason’s eyes flick down at the movement before they settle back onto Eddie’s face.

‘Looks like you’re practicing sodomy out in the open,’ Jason breathes out.

Eddie can’t help it - he laughs. ‘You’re about ten years behind, Carver. Nothing illegal ‘bout that anymore.’

‘Tell that to Leviticus 18:22. “Do not have sexual rela-”‘

‘What part of me makes you think I give a single shit about goddamn Leviticus?’

‘Eddie,’ Ray chimes in, with a slightly begging edge to his voice that Eddie has only heard in very different circumstances before. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

Jason settles his gaze onto Ray now, loosening his grip on Eddie’s upper arms a little bit. His blue eyes look innocent as ever, but that’s exactly the thing that makes Jason Carver so dangerous - Eddie knows that all too well.

‘No, you’re not going anywhere yet.’ A slight smile is playing around his lips, as if he’s actually enjoying this - which he is, of course, the fucking psycho. ‘I think I’m gonna need to put the fear of God back into you two first.’

His strike is sudden and unexpected despite the build-up; Eddie didn’t actually think he’d have it in him. An involuntary gasp escapes his lips when he witnesses how Ray’s head gets knocked against the wall of the building with a thump that blends right in with the loud bass emerging from the bar.

The alcohol has made Eddie slow - too slow - and Jason catches his wrist before he can punch back properly.

‘Ray -’ Eddie pants.

But Ray is already getting away, running as fast as he can across the parking lot without even once looking back. Jason’s eyes flash quickly back and forth between the two boys, but he seems to decide that going after Ray isn’t quite worth it if he has the superior target - the drunk freak - right in front of him. He twists Eddie’s wrist into a painful angle with his left arm, using his right for a well-aimed blow against Eddie’s jaw.

Eddie tries to aim his knee at Jason’s most vulnerable parts, but he’s too sluggish and Jason too quick on his feet, and before he can really shake off the stars that are dancing around in his vision, he feels another two hits against his face and then one in his stomach, making him gasp for air as he tries to find some support from the building behind him. Before he knows it he’s knocked down to the ground - but then, another pair of legs appears in his vision and when he lifts his head, he sees Jason being knocked back a few steps by someone - no, not just someone - by Steve.

Before Jason can even raise his hand to hit back, Steve grabs his wrist and twists his arm while landing a punch in his face with his free hand. Eddie scrambles to his feet, getting himself out of the way of Steve throwing his whole body into the fight, shoving Jason against the wall; a choked groan escapes from Jason’s mouth when Steve hits him right in his stomach.

Steve catches hold of the other guy’s collar as he presses him against the wall. Jason’s usually meticulously styled hair is hanging over his eyes and his lip is bleeding.

‘You stay the hell away from my friends or the next time we run into each other will do some irreparable damage to that pretty face of yours, Carver. Now get the hell outta here.’ There’s more of the old King Steve in there than Eddie has seen in years, and it’s twisting his stomach in a way that has nothing to do with the punch he received there half a minute ago.

‘Fuck off, Harrington,’ Jason spews out when Steve releases his grip. ‘You’re pathetic. Have fun hanging out with the freaks.’

But words can’t hurt - not when they’re coming out of Jason Carver’s mouth anyway - so Steve gives him a final shove into his back as the guy stumbles away with a limp in his step.

Steve turns around to face Eddie, his chest still heaving.

‘You won a fight!’ Eddie exclaims triumphantly, while making the mental note not to forget any details so he can tell Dustin all about it tomorrow. He strongly doubts how much he’ll remember by the next day, however, and he kinda wishes he hadn’t been drinking this much.

But Steve doesn’t look nearly as victorious as he should; there’s a frown on his face and his lips are pressed tightly together.

‘Jesus, Eddie, what happened?’ His eyes are wide as they wander over Eddie’s face, and this is probably not the moment to think anything along the lines of ‘Holy fucking shit, Steve is worried about me!’ but it’s pretty clear by now that Eddie doesn’t really care about right moments anyway.

‘Nothing to worry about, Stevie.’ He tries to grin, but the movement is hurting his jaw and he has to bite back a groan. ‘Just a good old-fashioned Indiana hate crime.’

The frown on Steve’s face deepens. ‘Did he - did you -’

He doesn’t finish his question, and Eddie merely shrugs in response.

‘Jesus Christ.’ Steve brushes both his hands over his face in an exasperated motion. Then, his expression settles into something softer, more cautious.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Aside from the fact that my hookup fucking left me to be beaten to pulp by the local Christian psychopath and my head feels like it might split in two, yes, never better.’

Steve huffs. ‘Fair enough,’ he mumbles under his breath. ‘Alright, why don’t we go inside and get you cleaned up?’

He holds out his arms to support Eddie, but Eddie stubbornly chooses to ignore that - until he takes the first step and the combined dizziness of the shots and the fight almost immediately sends him crashing to the pavement.

‘Woah, I got you, man.’

Steve’s strong arms keep him steady before he can even blink, and maybe it’s not so bad after all, to feel those warm hands firmly around his arms with every step he takes.

Eddie clenches his jaw and tries to ignore the bass that starts hammering into his skull as soon as they step back inside the bar, and he lets Steve guide him to the restroom without paying attention to any of the staring patrons around them.

Steve lifts Eddie up like he weighs nothing and positions him on the sink, then swiftly turns on the tap and gets himself some paper towels. Eddie notices the blood on his knuckles, but Steve seems to be more worried about Eddie’s face than about his own injuries: he starts carefully dabbing the bruises at Eddie’s temple with the bundle of wet towels in his hand, with a concentrated frown between his brows and his eyes fixed on the damage that has been done. There seems to be a kind of routine to his movements, and something about that kind of makes Eddie want to cry.

‘You gonna tell me what happened exactly?’ Steve asks.

‘You know what happened,’ Eddie replies stiffly. ‘Forgot that this is what happens when you kiss someone.’

The worry on Steve’s face turns into skepticism.

‘So let me get this straight,’ he says, now moving the wet paper towel down over Eddie’s cheek, ‘You decided it was a good idea to have a full-on makeout session with a guy right outside the Hideout for everyone to see and -’

‘So I deserved it?’ Eddie cuts him off, a biting undertone to his voice.

Steve’s gaze flashes away from Eddie’s cheek and settles on his eyes. ‘Don’t put words into my mouth, man,’ he says, warning. ‘I just - I don’t want you to get hurt if you don’t have to. Were you even thinking at all?’

‘Hm. If you put it like that, it really does sound stupid, huh?’

‘Well, I hope it was worth it.’ There it is again, that coldness.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Hooking up with some random dude outside a bar. I hope it was worth the punches. Seriously Eddie, why would you even do that?!’

He probably shouldn’t be saying this. No, he really shouldn’t be saying this. But there’s something about the way in which Steve is phrasing all this shit that makes him feel cornered. ‘Because I needed to forget about you.’ He lets it slip out before he can stop it. God-fucking-damnit.

Steve’s hand freezes mid-dab, cloth hovering in the air in front of Eddie’s skin. His mouth opens, the inevitable What?! frozen on his lips.

‘There you have it,’ Eddie says with a stiff shrug. ‘Not only stupid enough to get beaten up while I shoulda known better, but also to fall for my straight friend like the total idiot I so clearly am.’ He can’t even look at Steve anymore, fixes his gaze on a point somewhere behind Steve’s shoulder. ‘You know what, you should go home. I’ll get myself cleaned up; I can walk to Reefer Rick’s and crash there.’

But Steve moves to position himself right in front of Eddie, making it impossible for him to jump off the sink like he was planning to.

‘No, we’re not going anywhere.’

‘Steve, c’mon, this whole shitshow has been embarrassing enough as it is, alright?’ He feels the burning behind his eyes; he knows what’s gonna come next and he doesn’t want Steve to be the witness to that. ‘I don’t wanna talk about it. Just - at least give me the dignity to have my pathetic breakdown in private.’

‘Well, I do wanna talk about it, and you know what, Eddie?’ There’s a certain edge to Steve’s voice that Eddie can’t quite place. ‘You are a total idiot. I don’t know why the hell you would ever assume I’m straight, so honestly, that’s on you, man.’

It takes a good few seconds before Eddie’s hazy brain finally catches up to Steve’s words. Wait, what?!

‘Steve, I swear to God, if you’re fucking with me right now...’

‘I wish I was.’ And something about the complete seriousness with which Steve says that, finally makes the penny drop in Eddie’s head.

For a couple of seconds, he can only stare at Steve, frozen in time and in the hundreds of words that are hidden behind that soft brown-eyed gaze of his. Then, he stretches out his hands, wraps them around Steve’s waist, tugging him closer between his legs, reaching -

But Steve doesn’t kiss him. He merely envelops Eddie in his strong arms, tangles his fingers into his hair, rests his head in the crook of Eddie’s neck...

‘Steve...’

‘Not right now, Eddie,’ Steve murmurs into his hair. ‘Not like this. Just let me hold you, okay?’

So he does. He lets Steve hold him. He feels his arms around him, feels his waist pressed against the inside of his thighs, feels the warmth radiating from his body, hears the steady breathing in his ear, smells the scent of hairspray and aftershave and something he never smelled before. And he lets Steve take him home, where he keeps clinging onto him like a koala to a tree - and he doesn’t even mind that nothing else happens while he’s in Steve’s bed for the first time, because he’s there, and Steve’s there with him - and for now, that’s more than enough.

#tw violence #don't mind me rambling about stranger things #fruity ficlet #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #jason carver #stranger things

[small-sinclair]

Heyy! Uhm so this is my first ever request but could you maybe do:

The sinclairs, jason voorhees, michael myers, brahms heelshire

Being needy for their gn! S/O and begging for S/O to touch them?

Not forcing or anything you don't have to!

Thank you!!!

Sfw :3

Slashers: The Sinclairs, Michael Myers (young), Jason Voorhees, Brahms Heelshire, Thomas Hewitt

I haven’t written for Michael, Jason or Thomas before.

Slashers who are touched starved.

Bo

Bo wanted to collapse in your arms as soon as he came home late tonight. He took off his boots and hung his hat before crawling upstairs. He snuck into your shared room, smiling when he saw how soft and comfortable you were sleeping. He threw his shirt in the corner and put on his sleeping pants silently.

He was gentle to lay next to you, curling into your back, and laid in your hair. He gave a sleep kiss before taking a hold of you and placing on his chest.

“Bo?” You murmur sleepily as you buried your face in his neck. “What time is it?”

“2:30am,” he drawled heavily, running his hands up and down your back and sides. “Missed ya, sweetness.”

You say something, but he’s too tired to hear. He’s just happy to have you in his arms.

Vincent

His rough hands rest on your hips as he lays his head in the crook of your neck. Working with wax in a hot basement with no look of relief, he’s happy he gets to touch you and love you. He always loved the smell of you and how soft your skin is.

“You okay, lovely?” You asked, your hands running through his hair. “Long morning?”

He whimpers and nods as he hugs tighter, nuzzling into neck.

“Okay, hun,” you whispered, smiling as you said his name,” “Vincent, I’ll be here.”

Lester

After a long day of driving, roadkill, and running visitors to Ambrose, Lester just wants you. He buried his face into your hair and cling onto you. He hugs and rests on your side as you two watch tv, his eyes closed as you run your fingers through his hair. He curls into you and sighs in contempt.

“Long day?” You hummed, and he nods, mumbling something. He buried his face into your shirt.

There’s nowhere else he wanted to be but holding you close.

Michael Myers

He doesn’t understand why he lets his guard down around you. Why he’s less tense and more calmer. He doesn’t understand how you can do it, and it scars him. Him being scared… that doesn’t sit well with him.

But when he took off his mask and let you cup his cheeks, he melts. He falls right into your hands and holds them there. Cursed or damned, he feels free with your touch, and he smiles for the first time since he was a kid.

He moves closer until he has you in his chest, large hands over your head. He closed his eyes and felt human. Felt like the man his mother always wanted and never feared.

Just stay in his arms for a while, y/n. Let him rest in you touch this autumn night.

Jason Voorhees

He’s not one for touches or closeness. Underneath his mask is a hell scape or scars and wounds, and it gotten to the point where he can’t stand to see himself in the mirror. However, when you came to visit at the breach durning the night at the camp, waving at him from shore, he just knew he had to feel your hand in his.

And that wish came true after a few years later and a couple walks on the beach. He finds his hand in yours and your head on his shoulder, talking about tomorrow’s camp actives with archery and trying out the new rock wall. His hands are bigger than yours, but he holds your hand none the less.

One day, he’ll hug you. One day he’ll hold you. For now, simple steps. Simple steps.

Brahms Heelshire

There isn’t a time of day when he’s not by your side. His hand on your hip, head on your chest, touching your shoulders, having you sit on his lap— he needs you all day every day.

At night during the winter, that’s when snuggles come in. He has you curled into his chest as he rubs your back. He looks up at the ceiling then out the window at the snow. He smiles to himself as he glances down at you. He holds you close and drifts to sleep. He’ll never have to face cold nights alone. He’ll never know it again because you’re here.

Thomas Hewitt

His rough hands finds your waist as he buried his face into your neck. Before you can say anything, he spins you around and lift you up. He holds you in the air as if you weigh nothing to him. His upper hand rakes through your hair as he has you rest on his shoulder.

He melts when you hold his face and smile down at him. “Hi,” you whisper, giggling slightly.

He smiles under his mask and leans against you hands, humming to himself. He takes in your scent and relaxes. He didn’t know how much he need to be near you until your smile made his heart flutter and stop.

Do it again and again, over and over, until he thinks about nothing but you.

#bo sinclair #vincent sinclair #lester sinclair #house of wax #house of wax 2005 #house of wax (2005) #bo sinclair x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x reader #jason vorhees #jason vorhees x you #friday the 13th #michael myers #michael myers x you #halloween michael myers #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x you #texas chainsaw the beginning

[jasonstodger]

18+ / nsfw - "EXES EAT OUT!"

summary: smut (oral) | possessive behaviour | exes | fem!bodied reader

word count: 1.4k

“Jason, please, I know we’re not exactly friends anymore, but please-“ You limp across the roof towards him, the dirty streets of Gotham swimming below you in filth and misery.

“Y/n, You’re the… you’re the last person I’d ever help!”

“Jay…” you beg, your voice breaking. “Please. I can’t do this alone!”

“Don’t you dare call me that,” he snaps, his voice gruff and brimming with anger. He pushes you back, against the rough wall of the rooftop stairwell. “Don’t you fucking dare. Not after what you did.”

You hit the brick with a gasp, white shocks of pain stripping your nerves of sensibility, and for a second your vision flashes. Jason’s jaw ticks, eyes scathingly stripping your emotions bare as he holds you there, pinned by the shoulders. 

A large, gentle hand comes up to grip your jaw. Beneath the rich leather of his gloves, Jason’s touch is soft and careful as he tilts your head to examine the starbursts of purple pressed into the side of your jaw. His eyes narrow.

“What happened?” he asks sharply.

“J-Jay-”

“Shut up. Who did this to you?” he growls, his grip tightening some.

“Jason, please, I don’t - “

“I’m gonna kill them,” he seethes, letting you go with a harsh push back against the wall, and he runs a hand through his hair. You hear the creak of leather as he clenches his fists. “Tell me who did this to you.”

“Just some thug, it’s not important.”

“Bullshit! Someone laid their hands on you. They gotta pay for that, y/n, I can’t just- no one else is allowed to touch you!”

 His words are rough and fogged with chalky emotions, and he’s trembling, full bodied. Suddenly he comes towards you again, the turmoil raging in his eyes a reflection of your own. He touches your face again, his fingertips like a cool breeze against your face.

“How could you let them do this to you?” he cradles your jaw in his large palm.

You watch him closely, feeling the heat between your bodies despite the cold Gotham air. Jason's anger is intense, but there is something else there too, something that makes your heart race, even after all the hurt and pain that's passed between you.

"I didn't let them do anything," you say softly, leaning into his touch. "It was just bad luck. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Jason's eyes soften slightly, and he pulls you closer. "You always were too trusting," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your cheek. "That's why you need me."

You shiver at his touch, both from the cold and from the intensity of your feelings for him. "I don't need anyone," you say, even as you lean into him.

"Yes, you do," he insists, his voice rough with emotion. "You need me. And I need you."

He kisses you then, hard and passionately, his lips rough against yours. His arms wrap around you as he pulls you close, holding you tightly against him. You feel his muscles flex beneath his leather jacket, his body pressed against yours.

The kiss is bruising, but you don't care. All you can think about is how much you've missed him, how much you've longed for this. You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back with everything you have.

When he finally pulls away, you're both breathing heavily. He looks down at you, his eyes dark and filled with emotion.

"I still love you, y/n," he whispers, his voice barely more than a rough growl.

And then he's kissing you again, his hands moving to the neckline of your shirt, lifting it up. You gasp as he presses you against the wall, grinding his body against yours. Your breath hitches as his lips mark your neck, his teeth gently biting down. You run your hands through his hair.

Jason pushes you against the wall, his hands encasing your waist as he kisses your chest, his teeth catching gently at the edge of your bra. His arms tighten around you, pulling you close. He grunts against your shoulder, and you can feel the desire in his touch.

You can feel the familiar heat between you, and hear the familiar heaviness in his breath. His hands slide down to your thighs, and you whimper at the feel of his rough fingertips against your bare skin. He pushes your pants down, and you moan as his lips brush against your crotch. He bites at the edge of your panties, tugging them down with his teeth.

"God, I've missed this," he moans, his warm breath against your pussy. His tongue runs the length of your slit, teasing your clit and making you shudder. He grins against you, tugging your pants off completely.

"You still taste so fucking good," he growls, his lips wrapping around your clit. You gasp, clawing at the wall behind you. His teeth bite down against you, sending a jolt of hot electricity darting down between your legs. He licks you again, his tongue rough against your sensitive skin. He groans against you, his breath hot against your thighs.

"Fuck," he moans, his hands gripping your ass. He pulls you closer, the rough fabric of his leather pants rubbing against your bare skin. He spreads your legs, looking up at you with a feral grin. "I haven't forgotten how much you love this."

He moves closer, his teeth grazing along the length of your slit. His tongue moves to your clit, and he teases you there, stroking you in quick, rough motions. He moans against you, his breath rasping as he fucks you with his tongue. He grunts against you, his hands moving to your hips. He holds you in place, his tongue moving faster.

"Jason," you gasp, clawing at the wall behind you for support.

You're gripping his hair, tugging him closer, unable to keep yourself from moaning as he eats you out. He grunts against you, his eyes flashing up to meet yours. His tongue moves faster, and you can feel your orgasm building between your legs.

"Mmm," he groans, his voice muffled by your wetness. "I can feel you getting close. I'm gonna make you cum, y/n. I'm gonna make you cum all over my fucking face."

You whimper, your body shivering in anticipation. His tongue flicks against your clit, and you gasp beneath him. He grins, his teeth grazing against you as his tongue slides across your pussy.

"Oh, fuck," you gasp, your breath catching. You bite your bottom lip, your fingers curling into his hair.

His tongue moves faster, flicking against your clit with rapid strokes. His hands grip your ass, and you cry out as his teeth graze against you.

"Jason!" you gasp, your pussy clenching around his tongue. He moans against you, his hot breath a hot rush against your wet pussy. You lose yourself, your orgasm washing over you in waves.

He grunts against you, his tongue moving faster as you writhe against him. He licks you slowly as your orgasm comes to an end, moaning against you, your cum coating his tongue. You collapse against the wall, your fingers sliding through his hair.

He leans up and kisses you then, his tongue moving across your lips. You can taste your own juices on him, tangy and strong. He breathes in deeply, holding you close.

"I could eat you out all fucking night," he growls, his lips against your neck.

"Mmm, yeah?" you murmur, your fingers moving to his leather pants. You can feel his erection straining against his pants, pulsing against your palm. "You wanna fuck me, Jason?"

He grabs your wrist before you can pull him closer. "No," he says, his voice low and dangerous. He kisses you, his lips rough against yours. "I wanna fuck you as hard as I can, y/n. I wanna fuck you so good you forget about everyone else."

His words send a hot rush through your body. "Now?" you ask, your fingers trailing down his chest.

"Later," he growls. He holds you close, his cock throbbing beneath his pants. "I'll fuck you later. I promise."

He pulls you into a fierce kiss, his tongue moving against yours. You can feel his erection pressing against you, and you know how much he wants you. He pulls away, his lips curled into a feral grin.

"Don't go," you plead.

"I'm not," he says, his grip on you tightening. "I'm never fucking leaving again, y/n."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd smut #red hood x reader smut #jason todd #jason todd imagine #jason todd x you #red hood x you #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #MY FIRST SMUT!! #lemme know how I did ;)

[imdeadinsidesiriuslydead]

Hi, could you write a reader x Jason Grace sex scene? they were at camp half-blood, being really cute, and Piper gets jealous (I love her sometimes, but I love to imagine her as a little villain), and since she's being inconvenient, they go to Jason's cabin and have sex

Jealous | Jason Grace x fem! Reader

a/n: Jason is such an underrated character that gets so much hate. Like yea he’s not Percy but like does every character suck just cause they are not Percy? Like bfr! I love both and can’t choose. Any way here’s some smut and fluff for you hun!💕

warnings: smut! Fluff! Jealous!Piper.

MINORS LEAVE BEFORE I CALL YOUR MOMS!

Everyone was singing around the campfire as you and Jason snuggled up. Ever since Jason and you made it official, Piper had been annoyingly popping up at the most inconvenient moments.

She started barging in on your couple time, causing the two of you to turn alone time into trio time.

You wouldn’t consider her a friend, not really, she was more of an acquaintance. You knew of the most messing with her mind and making her think Jason and her were an item, but you are also aware of the fact that it was an illusion and when it came down to it, she rejected him. But she couldn’t seem to let go.

Right now is one of those moments.

She appeared next to you two and just helped herself to the blanket cocooning you and Jason.

“Don’t mind me.” She said as she sat next to Jason’s side.

Jason gave you an annoyed look and mouth “sorry.” As he looked back to the fire.

You reached under the blanket and went to hold his hand.

“Jason! Could you fix the feather in my hair? I can’t quite get it to stay put.” She said.

“Sure.” And just like that, both of his hands are occupied. Piper gave you a smirk that went completely unnoticed by Jason as he concentrated on fixing the feather.

You were sick and tired of Pipers ability to get Jason to do what she wanted. Her powers whether she could tell or not, you knew she could but would love to give her the benefit of the doubt, had a clear affect on him. Cause afterwards he’s confused on why he did what she asked, he goes out of his way to avoid her because of it.

You decided to knock him out of it. And an evil little idea entered you head and you impulsively took it.

Jason was almost finished with the clasp on the feather when he felt your hand gently grab his knee. He ignored it but he couldn’t now because it was traveling up his leg slowly.

He tried to keep his breathing steady as he fixed the last little bit of the clasp. He tried to ignore the tightening of his pants as your hand stroked his leg slowly getting closer to his bulge.

“There.” He said as he turns away from Piper, ignoring the smile she sends his way.

He turns to you and gives you a stern look. You smile innocently back and turn to face the campfire.

you hand grabs his bulge hard causing him to quickly get up ands grab your hand, pulling you with him.

Piper gets up and asks where he’s going but he far to gone to listen to her.

He drags you all the way back to his cabin and slams the door shut. Everyone is far away at the campfire for anyone to see you enter his cabin.

“You’re gonna get it.” He says as he rips off your shirt and pants quickly.

————

Piper followed you. She was concerned for Jason, he had left in a hurry.

She thought something was wrong. He must have had a vision, or remembered something about the prophecy.

She walked up to the Zeus cabin and knocked on the door. No answer.

She could have sworn she saw you guys walk this way.

She was curious and opened the door.

What she was not expecting was to see Jason and you on his bed fucking like cats in heat.

She stared horrified at the scene in front of her as Jason and your moans bounced off the walls.

Jason felt someone watching them and turned around. He quickly fell on top of you and tried to cover you up with his body as he pulled a blanket over his bottom half.

“Piper?!?” He asked as he scrambled to cover you up.

Piper seemed to have come to her senses and snapped out of it. She looked like a deer caught in headlight.

“Shit! I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to- bye!” She said before running out of the cabin and slamming the door shut.

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Jason said, losing all of his precious confidence and looking away.

“It’s not your fault. She walked in and just had to ruin things.” You said jealously. You played with your hair as Jason turned back towards you.

“I know. She barges in all the time. I’m sorry. Her charm speak whether she knows it or not affects me and then I just can’t focus clearly.” He said as he buried his head in his hands.

“Well,” you start as you push the blanket off his shoulders and trail your hands down his chest. “She’s not here now.” You say with a mischievous smile.

Jason lifts his head and smiles at you too before kissing you with so much urgency.

He picks you up flips you around, putting you on your hands and knees. He quickly rubs his cock through your warmth before thrusting in.

He goes faster, probably scared of Piper coming back, and moans as he reaches a point inside you only he can reach.

He reaches down and runs your clit, causing you to orgasm quickly. You won’t lie, being caught really turned you on.

It must have done the opposite for Jason as he was pounding into you for at least another 3 minutes before finally releasing into you. He whined as he pulled out and laid on top of you.

“I’ll talk to Piper about boundaries.” He said as he pulled you towards him.

“Ok.” You said as you leaned closer to him. “We probably have to head back, so no one in my cabin gets suspicious.” You try to get up but are pulled back down by Jason’s strong arms.

“Not now. Later.” He hums sleepily as he snuggled into you more. You laugh as your eyes begin to get heavy.

—————

Sorry if this is really short!

request are open.

#jason grace x reader #jason grace #Jason grace smut #Camp halfblood x reader #percy jackson x reader #hero’s of olympus #camp jupiter

[nocturne-pisces]

Hurricane

Jason Todd x Reader

Mostly like PG-13.

Allusions to heavy abuse.

You think you must have been starved as a child.

It’s the only way that he could leave you this hungry, this hollow. You tell yourself that it isn’t normal to want someone like this. You tell yourself that it isn’t healthy to want someone so much that it twists your ribs around themselves, makes you fold in on yourself because if you don’t the wind will catch and carry you off. 

You’re so empty you hear the breeze whistle in your throat, half drunk with a beer bottle in your fist blowing across the opening like a whistle and your whole body is warm. You don’t know if that’s the alcohol or the fact that he’s sitting across from you. 

“What’s up with you?” 

Jason levels you with a stare, clacks his beer bottle against yours in some mockery of playfulness even though you’ve barely said a word to him all night. 

You try to shove it off now, try to swallow down your feelings as the sensation of the bile crawling up the back of your throat burns at your resolve. 

“Huh? I’m fine–”

“You’re a shit liar, kid.” 

You hate that he calls you that. Kids are innocent, pure; the first time Jason met you he’d had to pry you off of some man while you were trying to cut his fingers off for feeling you up. Jason told that man if he ever caught him doing some shit like that again he’d take a whole hand. Fucking greaseball nodded because Jason was more than a full head taller than him and held him off the ground by his stupid fucking stained shirt. 

You’ve always hated that you didn’t scare people like that, you think maybe if you did you could have avoided some hurt. 

You roll your eyes, because you are a shit liar and Jason knows better than anyone when you’re keeping things from him. Because he’s the only person you’ve let this close in longer than you probably have the functional front lobe to remember. Concussions are a bitch like that.

“I think I’m just gonna go home,” you offer, knocking back the rest of your beer before your ribcage gets so brittle that it collapses and he sneezes on the dust. 

“Alright then, magic man, keep your secrets.” 

“You’re obnoxious.”

“And you’re keeping shit from me. I thought we agreed not to do that with this whole sidekick thing–”

“I’m not a fucking sidekick.” Venom drips from your teeth, a snake backed into a corner with nowhere to go but forward viciously.

“And this is what I’m talking about! Any other day you’d just punch me and tell me to get my shit in check but today you look like you’re ready to slit my throat.” 

“It’s not off the table,” you murmur, more to the ceiling than to him, right before the last of your beer slides down into your echoing gullet. 

“What is going on with you?” 

“Just some personal shit, Jason. Don’t worry about it.” You try to give it finality, but Jason can’t even die on someone else’s terms so he doesn’t let this go either. 

“What, like your period?” 

You don’t even try to stop your hand when your fingers close around the beer bottle and throw it at his head. He ducks and it shatters on the wall behind him, shards of glass raining down around his chair. You know how that feels. 

The bartender’s voice is booming from the other end of the bar. 

“You two. Out.” 

He’s bigger than both of you combined and you don’t feel like arguing anymore so you wave your hand as you dismiss yourself, leaving Jason to pay for the abhorrently cheap beer. 

It’s humid in Gotham, suffocating your every breath with smog and uncertainty. Maybe you should just find a place in Metropolis, start over again, but you’re so fucking tired of running. Everyone you have ever met, everyone that has ever left you has taken their pound of flesh. You feel like nothing but bones, knocking together like chutes on a bamboo wind chime before a hurricane. 

Jason is your hurricane. Your natural disaster of righteous salvation and you didn’t bring your arm floaties. 

You want to drown in him, want to inhale him and choke—

Even if it kills you. He’s never even had a girlfriend that you know of and how fucking idiotic would it be to ask Alfred if Jason’s available, how stupid to ask Dick if Jason’s interested in you.

You peel yourself out of your jeans, your bra, shove your arms through the most comfortable oversized t-shirt you can find and flop onto your back in the middle of your living room. 

The ceiling in your apartment holds no more answers than the ceiling at the bar and again you have to swallow back that hollowed out feeling. At some point your eyes slid closed and you slumbered listening to the breeze in the auditorium of your chest. 

—-

Everything is warm when you wake up, heat radiates from behind you and from the arm slung over your middle. 

But that can’t be right, this isn’t where you fell asleep. 

You don’t wait to ask questions, pivoting your body and swinging at whatever is behind you. Someone yelps in pain, your fist connecting with something face adjacent before it’s caught and held fast. Your knees come up to join the struggle and one heavy leg drapes across your hips to still you. 

“Goddamnit, will you fucking chill out?”

“Jason?” 

Just as you say it your eyes adjust to the light, make out the red bat on his chest, make out the shock of silver that grows in the front. 

“Yeah, me, shithead.” 

“Why are you in my bed?!” You struggle against his hold, it only gets tighter. 

“I came to check on you after patrol and you were like sad girl passed out in the floor.” 

“So you decided I needed a cuddle?!” 

“I mean, that’s probably not such a bad idea given your fucking attitude—“

“Jason!” 

“No! I mean, I didn’t mean to. I tucked you in and just wanted to stay long enough to make sure you were okay and then I fell asleep.” 

He lets go of you, lets you get as far away from him as you can without falling off of the bed. He looks like you shot him with his own gun. 

“I’m sorry. I uh- I crossed a line coming here-“ 

“No, wait,” you stop him, reach for him as he moves to get up. 

“I don’t understand where I lost you-“ 

You don’t let him finish. You rush him,  connect your mouth to his because you don’t know how else to explain it. He doesn’t react immediately, and you wish that the floor would open up and swallow you whole but it doesn’t. 

You pull back, sit up and on your haunches and stare at his dumbfounded face. There’s only a second of silence between you before a hand strikes out lightning fast, thunder clapping against your sternum as you’re jerked forward. 

One hand cradles your head, allowing you no room to escape from the kiss suffocating you like the most beautiful Gotham smog. Wisp of smoke soft, signal of something lit aflame. The other presses into your back, calloused and unforgiving, like he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on. You want to pull him closer but you can’t, your electrons are already crashing together. 

You tug at the buckles on his chest kevlar, fingers pinch and twist until they come loose and fall into a heap on the floor. His shirt goes too, the silver of sinew in his autopsy scar catching the moonlight. You’re struck dumb like staring into the eye of his hurricane and seeing the beauty in the pattern of his destruction. Like pitching yourself into a volcano for the warmth. 

Because he is beautiful; 

and he is broken. 

And those two things are intertwined and that is something you understand in your marrow. 

You press your lips to the point where the three lines meet right over his heart. His breath catches the same way it does when he’s on the unfortunate end of a knife, but you know there aren’t words you can tell him that will soothe that ache. 

So you show him your own. 

Bodies roll and he lets out a huffed breath when his back hits the mattress. 

A handful of raised tally marks, gnarled and stretched over time, one for every reason your father decided that he hated you that night. You didn’t plan on living after that, you’ve kind of been wingin’ it ever since. Jason’s thumb brushes over the cluster of violence on your stomach, looks from it to your face and understands the exchange. 

Your scars and his, all the things that have happened to you. 

He happened to you too. 

And you can spew adjectives about every natural disaster that has a name and still never aptly describe how much you love his chaos. 

And that's okay too.

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd smut #batfam #batfamily #red hood #not even really sure i like this one

[slashersidewhore]

Slashers! S/O hurt by a victim

Slashers x gn!reader

Includes Michael Myers, Jason Voorhees, Thomas Hewitt, Vincent Sinclair

Requested? Yes

Warnings: Beefy murder boyfriends, hurt/comfort, minor angst, injuries, blood, fluffy shit

Michael Myers

Michael doesn’t want you involved in his crimes, he’d rather you keep your pretty self out of harms way. Whether that be at home, or somewhere else in general, just anywhere but with him when he’s busy killing. That being said, accidents happen.

You can’t help the curiosity that runs through you when a harsh bang comes from the backyard of the Myers house. It was sudden really, opening the back door when you were knocked backwards, head careening into the wall with a dull thud.

The minute you let out a yelp from the pain and being caught off guard, the shadow of a tall, looming figure isn’t far behind

There was only one word to describe the feeling bubbling in the killers chest and that would be absolute rage

Now, Michael isn’t one to worry himself when someone gets themself hurt, he could care less quite honestly. But seeing you holding the back of your head, blood covering your hands and forehead, eyes squeezed shut with unshed tears, the little bit of sanity left in him just snaps. The horrific screams of the victim who pushed you over are all that fill the house, quieting into watery gurgles and then just silence

Heavy footsteps stop before your slumped over form, rough, unpracticed movements that pull at your body drag a hiss from your lips. Although Michael isn’t one to stop, he’s focused on getting you to open your eyes, see you looking back at him, let him know you’re okay

A calloused palm soothes over the crown of your head, pulling another whine as his fingers hover at the wound. It’s nothing too serious, probably a concussion, some gauze and pain killers will fix you right up. But the usual silence from Michael isn’t comforting, especially considering the way he seems to have doubled in size, shoulders squared, fingers twitching to curl into fists, working eye squinted behind the cut in his mask. The man is clearly agitated, heavy breathing more ragged, rushed

He’s unable to stab his way through this problem, he can’t fix it by spilling more blood. That worries him immensely. He’s not used to taking care of anyone in such a manner, or at all. His body is acting as a shield from the outside world, not holding you close yet not letting you go. To the right, the mangled, haphazardly tossed body of the victim lies, their cruel death far more brutal than you’d even known Michael to be

He won’t say anything, as usual, but the manner in his body language is different, not soft but protective, cautious. He’s not sure what to do with these feelings, not sure how to process the sight of you bleeding, the one person he’d rather never even encounter a simple scrape

He promises himself right then and there nothing of this sort will ever occur again. Not if he can prevent it. He would watch the world burn before you so much as felt an ounce of pain again

Jason Voorhees

Same as Michael in the regards that he doesn’t want you anywhere near any of his potential or current victims. The idea that you could possibly get injured runs through is mind the daily, even without the threat of others. So if he’s dealing with naughty campers, you better be safe in the cabin, doors locked and windows sealed

Although Jason seems to underestimate the lengths some would go to survive, especially the rage that follows when their friends are slaughtered

Imagine his surprise when he’s hunting down one of the people that got away, heart beginning to race as he realizes their tracks lead back to the cabin, the exact cabin you’re supposed to be safe in. “Safe”, is a word that completely leaves his mind upon seeing what he does when he enters the ajar door. Your face is bloodied, bruised and swollen, collar of your shirt clutched by the victim he dared to allow escape. The sight is enough to send the poor man into cardiac arrest, heart beating so fast it feels to him as if his chest will rip open, but that can wait

The way he carves into the unsuspecting back of the offender above you is feral, machete driving down again and again until you’re left with a bloody heap rather than a person, a heap that is quickly tossed carelessly to the side, relieving the pressure from your weakened body

Even through the swell, pain and red, your eyes can see his swimming with extreme pain

He did this, he caused you to be hurt, it was his fault you were ever put in harms way. His racing pulse doesn’t subside even when you attempt a bloody smile, too overtaken with grief to calm his nerves. In Jason’s mind, he doesn’t deserve someone like you, no matter what you’ve done, what you’ve been through, you’re perfection to him. The fact that you’d chose to be by his side astonishes him, so to let you be injured in this way? Beaten and practically frail in his arms? He’s failed you

The anger in his veins disappeared the minute you softly called his name, hand reaching up to caress the side of his mask. There’s evident tears in your eyes, whether from fear or pain both options are the worst case in Jason’s mind. Yet you don’t seem upset with him, which confuses him greatly but ultimately, your anger towards him would only worsen how he felt

In that moment, holding you clutched to his firm, scarred chest, he promises to himself he’d never let another hand cause you such harm

Thomas Hewitt

In Thomas’s eyes, you’re safest as you can be furthest from him, no matter his hearts urge to keep you as close as possible

The image of you crying, bleeding, or simply making a face indicating unease, upsets his stomach, twists and turns his insides unpleasantly

That is until one day, another hot, overbearing Texan day in the heat when one of the trespassers managed to escape the basement, god knows how they did it, but they did. And now Thomas was lost in the sweat of a days work, eyes scanning the grain filled yard, dusty streets and dead land, no one in sight. Until the buzzing in his ears is cut off by the unmistakable, bloodcurdling scream of someone not too close, yet not far either. What makes his blood run cold isn’t the sound itself, but the familiarity of it. Now Thomas has never actually heard you make such a noise, but he’d be a fool to not recognize it, especially when it came from someone who brought him such warmth

Terror, he can also recognize the tone at which you use, the fear in it, he can feel every ounce of dread you do, tenfold at the idea he may be too late, he may not make it in time, if only he was closer

He’s running now, chainsaw alive and screeching, heavy pants beneath the leather on the lower half of his face, eyes wildly searching the open area for a sign of danger, a sign of you

Thats when he spots it in the distance, a figure standing above another, some kind of tool held high, what looks like a kitchen knife in the gleam of sunlight that hits it. His legs feel of jelly, unable to move until another scream fills his ears, this time it’s of his name, most desperate, pained. And if that didn’t get him moving, he didn’t know what would. Chainsaw raised in pure adrenaline, the lumbering man is quick to slice downwards, down and down and down until body parts dismember, organs are strewn, red covers the wheat and grass and dirt

Saw thrown off to the side, Thomas kneels beside your nearly curled up form, hands pressing into the stab wound decorating your side, blood seeping from your hands that clutch to keep it in. He’s gentle, like a butterfly kissing you, years of scars and rough work should make his hands feel like sandpaper, although grasping you like you’d dissolve, his palms are simply silk

Head lulling into his chest, ignoring the blood that’s spewed across it, you nuzzle the underside of his chin, although in grave pain, the wound stinging with each stride Thomas makes, you feel at peace, comforted by the large man holding you like you would a breakable doll

Dark, heavy eyes shift down to gaze upon you, worried brow furrowed deep, clearly in distress upon seeing you so weakened, losing blood. Luda Mae can fix you right up thankfully, he just can’t imagine ever seeing you in such a state again, he never wants too, it would physically kill him

Carrying your tired body, heartbeats one, Thomas enters the Hewitt mansion with one thing on his mind, he’s never to be far from you ever again

Vincent sinclair

You never went in the basement when Vincent was, “working”, you’d learned it best to leave him alone, ignore the screams of pain and smell of hot wax hitting warm skin

The mans activities aren’t a secret from you, although he’d rather you not watch him participate in such acts, he’d rather you keep from seeing such horrors, allow your sleep to be uninterrupted by nightmares unlike his

You were headed to the kitchen when the loud screaming of what sounded like someone in fear and confusion could be heard, the thunderous steps of someone hurling towards the room you were in, the form of a startled victim coming into view

Their eyes changed from fear to rage, seeing you unharmed, at peace in such a place that got their friends killed, mindlessly headed for the fridge. You could already hear the heavy boots of Vincent rushing up the basement steps, and as if he couldn’t move any quicker, your yelp of fear proved otherwise

Your eyes were wide when the masked man finally came into view, hands grasping as the arm around your neck from behind, body pressed against the person that had narrowly escaped, shaking as they held a kitchen knife to your cheek. The look in Vincent’s eye was deadly, in fact you would’ve been trembling in fear from the intensity if not for the fact that you knew the man would do anything to protect you, and vice versa

Garden sheers were clutched tight in one of his rough hands, knuckles caked with wax. The knife against your cheek began to dig slightly into your delicate skin, causing a soft gasp to leave your lips before red filled your vision, sprayed across where the offending weapon once was, arms leaving your body as the body fell limp to the kitchen floor. Turning to look at the damage, your face was softly grasped by two warm palms, eyes still wide from the ordeal, staring into Vincent’s now calm gaze

His thumb swiped at the blood beading on your cheek bone, clearly discontent with even the smallest cut adorning the face he loved the most, a low noise coming from the back of his throat, akin to a wounded animal

Pulling you into his broad chest, dark locks brushed the sides of your face, Vincent stared dead ahead, one hand on the back of your head as he internally cursed himself out, how dare he let someone that close to you, how dare he let them draw your blood

Glancing as the nearly decapitated victims body on the floor, blood pooling, Vincent swore to himself if anyone ever caused you such pain again, they’ve face a cruel, slow death

Hope y’all enjoyed <3

#thomas hewitt #vincent sinclair #michael myers #slasher #thomas hewitt x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #jason voorhees #michael myers x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader #slashers headcanons #slashers fanfic #slashers fanfiction #slashers x reader insert #slashers #slashers x gn reader

[kirbyskisses]

kirby’s kinktober (five)

size//jason todd

when your high school boyfriend came back into your life you weren’t actually too surprised that he’d:

a. become a crime lord/vigilante for a bit

b. reconciled with his billionaire father who was also batman

and c. literally come back to life from the dead.

having lived in both gotham and metropolis meant you were unfazed by most phenomena.

no. what surprised you was that he was big. like really big.

homelessness and malnourishment through his entire childhood meant that when you had your puppy-love with 13 year old jason todd, he was tiny. athletic enough to box and play basketball but still obviously skinny, with lanky limbs and a frame that didn’t reach too far past 5 feet.

that could not be said now.

21 year old jason is huge; 6’2 and over 200 pounds of muscle, green eyes, a white hair streak and - at the moment - a desperate, primal, animalistic need to be inside of you.

unfortunately for his impatient desires - but fortunately for you and your pleasure - jason’s massive size applies to his thick cock; he preps you on his huge fingers until you’re drooling and braindead from the feeling of your creaming, and squirting, and gushing.

you’re fucked completely stupid before he even prods the fat head of his cock against your hole.

“you okay for more, princesa?”

you nod and sigh out a confirmation before he slots his lips onto yours softly.

“even if i go really hard? you’re not too fucked out to remember your safe word?”

you shake your head and say it softly to show you remember before your eyes look up and down his body as it stands over you.

he begins pushing in, letting out a soft groan as the thick head finally buries itself in your cunt. it’s hot and it stretches you deeply. his huge hands grasp your hips.

he starts pulling his own hips back before roughly slamming inside your sensitive walls which have never felt as tiny and tight as they have with jason.

back arching of the bed just from him starting, you reach out and try to press your hand against his stomach - hoping to keep him from kissing painfully at your cervix.

he picks you up, wrapping you around his waist like you’re nothing. your arms cling around his neck. it leaves him completely free to beat his cock into your tiny hole.

he chuckles at your pathetic squirms and then growls, making you look down at it. how it sinks in and out and in and out with a delicious and sloppily wet squelch.

“j-jay! too big!~”

“oh?” he chuckles. “so she can talk.”

“p-please ‘s… ‘s thick!” you hiccup out a sob and god it’s such a boost for him when you can’t stop sobbing - when he batters your poor cunt until you’re in tears.

“i know it is. god you take it all so well. taking so much of me that I can see it bulge in that cute little tummy.” he smirks and you whimper because it’s true.

with every thrust you can hear, see and feel the outline of his cock pushing in and distending your stomach ever so slightly.

god, he’s huge.

#smut #jason todd x reader #Jason todd #red hood x reader #red hood #Batfam #kirby’s kinktober #kinktober

[kisskiss-slashslash]

Slashers when their S/O is crying

Jason Voorhees

Jason first notices how eerily quiet it is when he comes home to the little shack you both live in. Normally you come out to greet him as soon as you hear him come in, so he is pretty alarmed.

He finds you sitting next to your bed, wrapped up in blankets and with reddened eyes.

His immediate reaction is anger; not at you but at who- or whatever caused you to be in this state. He kneels down in front of you and cups your face with both hands to make you look at him. You give him a shakey smile.

“Oh, hi, Jason. I didn’t hear you come home.” You pull the blankets around you even tighter. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just having a really bad brain day, that’s all.”

He sits down next to you and pulls you onto his lap, so you can curl up against him. And he will not let you go until you’re feeling better.

Freddy Krueger

Freddy doesn’t mind you sleeping more than usual, after all, the more you sleep, the more time he gets with you. But even he notices that the time you spend sleeping is getting pretty excessive. And even worse, when you pop up in his realm, you look like a complete mess. Your eyes are red, you walk around like a zombie and are obviously dealing with a very stubborn runny nose.

“Who do I need to kill?”, he asks, all business. He isn’t really the type to offer emotional support but he is always quick to offer practical help. If that practical help is murder, at least, and really, isn’t it always?

“I just had a shitty day at work”, you reply lamely.

“Every day has been a shitty day at work for the past month or so.”

“Yeah…”

He remains quiet for a short moment. “So who do I need to kill? A coworker? Your boss?”

“You can’t solve every problem with murder, Fred.”

“I disagree.”

“Of course you do.”

“I mean”, he continues. “It’s usually not my style to go after adults, but I would make an exception if they’re messing with you. I could make it look like and accident, or a sudden heart attack in their sleep, or-”

“Fred”, you interrupt him, finding the familiar feeling of a giggle bubbling up in your chest. That son of a gun actually managed to help you forget your stress for a bit. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine.”

“Suit yourself.”

Vincent Sinclair

He somehow got it in his head that secretly drawing you would be a fantastic idea. It would be the drawing-version of candid shots. Capture you at your most natural, when you think that nobody else is watching.

What he did not expect, however, was to find you curled up on the couch, quietly sobbing to yourself.

He drops the sketchbook and pen onto the nearest table and sits down next to you.

You flinch. “Oh… Vincent.” You wipe at your eyes. “It’s nothing, don’t worry, it’s just…” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I…I was helping Lester with the roadkill pit, and we came across a deer that had just been hit, and it was still alive, and…” Your voice dies in your throat. “The poor thing looked so scared.”

Odd, really, how you could see humans die, and even help their killers, but seeing an animal in such a pitiful state is too much for you. “I don’t think Lester is gonna let me help him again anytime soon.”

Vincent lets you lean on him and gently rubs your shoulders and back to soothe you, until your sniffles slowly die down and you doze off in his arms.

Brahms Heelshire

He sees you crying through the crack in the walls, and immediately feels his protective instinct flare up. Who hurt you? Hell, who COULD hurt you? You hardly ever left the house. Had someone said something to you over the phone? Had you gotten a letter than upset you?

He says your name, in his child-like voice, which gets your attention. “Please stop crying. I don’t like it when you cry.”

You straighten up and put on a brave face. “It’s alright, Brahms, I’m fine.” You go quiet for a moment. “Brahms, you never took any letters or phonecalls meant for me, did you?”

“No”, he replies honestly. He had toyed with the idea to isolate you like that, of course, but in the end, even Brahms’ selfishness had limits.

Your eyes fill with tears once again. “Not once have any of my family or friends tried to contact me, ever since I arrived here. Do they not care about me?”

Brahms is quiet. What is he supposed to say to that? “Then…. if your family and friends don’t care about you, then I will care about you extra hard to make up for it.”

You wipe the tears away again and find yourself smiling.

Oh Brahms… Never change.

Bubba Sawyer

Unless you have been raised that way, like the Sawyers were, the ethical implications of eating human meat do occasionally catch up to you. And then you find yourself bent over the toilet, or a bucket, sobbing in between bouts of noisy vomiting.

You only notice Bubba when he starts stroking your head, and smearing the blood on his hand all over your hair in the process.

You try to somehow regain your composure, while Bubba helps you up and urges you to the nearest chair. The fact that that chair is made of human bones and decorated with even more human bones however doesn’t really help matters.

When you show no sign of calming down, Bubba panics a little. He looks around, trying to think of a way to make you feel better. Then he rushes out of the room. After a few seconds, you hear clucking, and Bubba comes back, trailing feathers and bedding from the chicken room behind him, and with his favourite chicken cradled in his arms. He carefully places the animal on your lap, urging you to hold onto it.

The chicken, quite used to being held and handled, is warm and soft. You run your fingers over its feathers, chuckling softly when it idly pecks at the sleeves of your shirt.

“Thank you, Bubsy”, you say. “Didn’t think that cuddling with a chicken was what I needed, yet here I am.” After a moment of silence, you add:”...Can you keep stroking my hair? That was nice, too.”

Bubba, of course, happily obliges.

#slasher x reader #brahms heelsire x reader #vincent sinclair x reader #bubba sawyer x reader #jason voorhees x reader #freddy krueger x reader

[quite-right-too]

Bitter Taste

Dark!Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: When the Doctor meets your ex-boyfriend, he reacts in a way you really should have expected.

His name was Jason.

You didn’t tell the Doctor much about your ex-boyfriend. Mostly little details regarding his treatment of you. Not that he was necessarily a bad guy, just that he was pretty distant and cheated on you with some girl he’d met at a bar one night during his shift.

Yet, here you were. Standing directly in front of the bar where he worked, hand in hand with the Doctor.

“It’ll be fun,” he said when he’d mentioned a visit home to see your family. “I can see little bits of your past.” You knew the real reason he wanted to go to Brook’s. It was just a shitty little dive bar in your city, nothing special — aside from the fact that he knew your ex worked there.

He reached for the handle, opening the door for you and pulling you in. His eyes scanned the faces of everyone in the room, keeping his hand in yours while doing so. “Why don’t you go get us some drinks?” he murmured, leaning down so his breath puffed against your ear. “I’m going to the loo.” And off he went, walking to the back where the sign for the restrooms was.

At the bar, the bartender walked up. “Welcome to Brook’s, what can I get you?” She had a nice smile — genuine and kind. You couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’ll take a-” You couldn’t even finish your order before you locked eyes with the other bartender. Piercing blue eyes bore deep into your soul as you felt a sense of dread in the pit of your stomach. He set down the glass he had been drying and began to walk to your side of the bar.

“Oh, hey! It’s been a while. Fancy seeing you here,” Jason chuckled. “I'll be right back, Jess.” He placed his hand on the woman’s shoulder and walked around the bar to be at your side. “How have you been?”

“Hello, Jason,” you spat. “I’ve been busy. Travelling, you know?” 

He reached out, grabbing your arm before you could move and pulling the two of you into the corner. “I’ve missed you. A lot, actually.” Your arm was stuck in a vice grip as he continued. “I tried to call but you never answered. I want to talk. I want us to be an us again. I’m sorry and I’ve changed, I swear.”

Yanking yourself away from him, you took a step back. “Thanks, but no thanks. You cheated on me, remember? You can’t just play the ‘sorry’ card and think you’re still welcome in my life!”

“Oh please, you miss me. I know you do.”

“I really don’t. Fuck off and find someone else who will entertain your bullshit.” Swallowing hard, you moved away from the bar and glanced nervously towards the bathroom. The familiar shape of the Doctor emerged through the doorway and looked around until he spotted you.

It was like he sensed it. The Doctor’s eyes narrowed as he pushed his way through the crowd. The Time Lord Victorious did not appreciate Jason talking to you, especially after what he had heard about him.

Standing next to you, his hand gripped your waist hard, pulling you against him possesively. “Sorry, love. Just needed a minute.” His cold gaze looked Jason up and down. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

You ex didn’t flinch. “No, we haven’t. I’m Jason,” he hissed, holding out his hand. The Doctor reached out and gripped it with a strength Jason wasn’t expecting, smirking at the wince he pulled from the other man.

“While I do love a good chat, I’m afraid we’ve got to grab something to drink and actually enjoy our night.” His comment caused Jason to scowl, backing away. “Nice to meet you.” His tone was anything but friendly as he released you and took a step forward. His fist clenched in the front of Jason’s shirt, yanking him to the side and slamming him against the wall. “And don’t you ever think about fucking coming near us again, got it? Otherwise your brains will be splattered across the concrete outside.” He released his grip, letting the other man move again.

“Sure, whatever.” Jason huffed, brushing himself off, and made his way back to the bar.

You turned, burying your face in the Doctor’s chest. “Thank you.”

He held you close, not taking his eyes off the man he had just chased away. “I’ll always save you. You’re mine.”

Not long after, he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the bathrooms. “Where are we going?” you questioned. He didn’t say a word, continuing on through the back door and into the area behind the bar.

It wasn’t anything special. Just an area where they had some tables for large parties. However, since nobody in their right mind would use a bar like this for a gathering, it was just used by the employees for smoke breaks.

The Doctor dragged you over to a table on the end of the line, but still close enough to the back door that there was a chance of being caught. “Mine,” he growled against your lips as he kissed you greedily, lifting you by the backs of your thighs onto the edge of the table.

“Fuck, Doctor, what if we-” You didn’t get a chance to finish before he was grabbing at your waistband, forcefully ripping your jeans down your legs. The realisation hit that he was going to take you right here, right now.

You had no intention of stopping him.

As soon as you were naked from the waist down, you reached for the buttons of his trousers. He slapped your hands away, glaring at you from above. This was not the Doctor, this was the Oncoming Storm. Rough and reckless; a man who will fuck you until you can’t stand.

“No touch.” He reached for his tie, keeping his eyes connected to yours with a searing gaze. Pupils blown with lust, the Doctor pulled his tie off his neck and reached for your arms. “Now you get to be punished.” Your hands were quickly bound behind your back.

His trousers dropped to his ankles as he pulled you against the edge of the table and wasted no time slamming into you. “Oh, fuck!” you moaned as he began to set a punishing rhythm. One of his arms wrapped around your torso, the other around the back of your head, to keep you as close to him as he physically could.

“All mine,” he grunted as he kept his fast pace. “Nobody else’s. This is all for me. Mine to use. Mine to ruin.” His babbling continued as he fucked into you. “If anyone ever tries to flirt with you again, I’ll rip their heart out with my bare hands. I will make sure you never want anyone else’s cock in you for as long as you live.” He nipped at your neck, claiming you further.

Your arms fought against his tie as you tightened your legs around his waist, rotating your hips to spur him on further. “All yours. Please, use me,” you choked out. When like this, the Doctor was absolutely ruthless. It was almost as if you could see delirium swirling in those deep brown eyes of his. “Oh, god.”

“That’s it,” the Doctor snarled. “I’m your god.” He kept on for several minutes before you felt him look up and his jaw tense against your temple.

“Moan my name, love. Let the world hear whose you are. Make sure that bastard knows that it’s only me in your mind. Do it. Moan for me. Come for me.”

He released your torso, allowing you to fall backwards onto the table. His hands moved to grip your hips tightly. “Oh god, Doctor. I’m yours! I’m all yours, Doctor. Please, I’m so close!”

Your eyes met his as a sickening grin crossed his face. “Come for me, now,” he growled before he glanced up. 

It crashed over you like a star exploding. “Fuck, I’m coming! Doctor! Doctor!” You chanted his name like a prayer. As you were pulled into absolute pleasure, your back arched and you finally realised what he had been staring at.

Standing frozen outside the employee door was your ex-boyfriend, eyes wide and cigarette hanging out of his mouth as he watched the Doctor absolutely rail you.

The Time Lord staked his claim, all right. Especially as he locked eyes with Jason, sneering at him. “All mine,” he shouted as his thrusts became choppy. “This is all mine!” He tensed up, thrusting hard into you once more before you felt him pulse inside you.

The door slammed shut as you laid there, unable to move as the Doctor pulled out of you. “Now,” he murmured as he pulled his trousers up and rebuttoned them. “You’re going to put your pants back on and we’re going to walk back through that bar, in front of him, and go home. Got it?”

You nodded as he pulled the tie from its knot and freed your arms. This wasn’t what you’d planned when he suggested the possibility of seeing your ex at his place of work, but it was singlehandedly the most satisfying thing you’d done as revenge. And the best part?

As you left and turned down the alley around the corner to enter the TARDIS, the Doctor told you to stay there and said he would be right back. He reassured you that he would make sure he left Jason a nice tip.

It didn’t take long before your phone rang. Your mom informed you that your ex-boyfriend was found dead behind the bar. Beaten bloody until his brain haemorrhaged. No evidence as the cameras inside had been mysteriously deactivated.

A nice tip indeed.

#my fic #tenth doctor #doctor who #david tennant #tenth doctor x reader #doctor who fanfiction

[cryptidcasanova]

Skull Rock Reckoning

Demon!Eddie Munson x Reader

Ohmygoodness. Like, holy shit, I got the coolest Hellfire Haunts request in my asks. I had it all ready to go, was going to save it in my drafts, and then it never did save. Poof. It’s just gone, not in asks or drafts, so I am so sorry if I am losing you in the tumblr mess!

It was a request for Demon!Eddie, using prompt #1 (I’ve waited lifetimes for you.) It was so so sooooo good, I just had to write it!

Summary: Imagine if Jason Carver and his buddies tricked the reader into going up to skull rock, and instead it was really a sacrifice ploy. They were trying to sacrifice them to summon a demon (Eddie) who is less than thrilled, but it turned out to be a soulmate encounter.  

So! If this was your ask, please let me know, and I’m sorry I lost it in the mix!

Warnings: Dark!Soulmate AU, Yandere, Soft!Dark Eddie, Violence, Blood, Dubious themes.

Words: 3k

Jason Carver was the golden boy of Hawkins High, and even after he graduated, his name still carried the same authority.

Sure, you had seen him around. You remembered the way he laughed around his friends and how his eyes would linger when he thought you weren't looking when you two were in school. You knew of his popularity and affinity for the cheer squad. So yes, you knew of Jason Carver.

You just never expected to hear him call your name while you were cruising down the grocery store aisles.

The sound of it was strong, and you turned to see him walking down the aisle with a shopping basket in his hands. You stopped with a slight wave. The smile he gave you was jolting.

"Hey," He grinned. "Have you ever been up to Skull Rock?" He asked, leaning against the wall of canned food.

He had never initiated a conversation with you before, but then again, neither had you. You two ran different circles growing up.

"I can't say I have." You told him with a lazy grin, moving down the aisle to pick up a jar of peanut butter. He watched with mild fascination.

"We're throwing a little party up there for Halloween. Tomorrow night. Spooky things go on up there," Jason continued, and you walked alongside him.

You turned your head back to his, catching his stare. "You know, they say it was a place for satanic worship." He teased.

You rolled your eyes playfully.

"It sounds like a bunch of hocus-pocus."

He scoffed lightly, putting a hand over his chest.

"It's the best place to be. There are no cops, and there will be drinks and music. It'll be a lot of fun." He said. "And I wanted to see if you'll come this year." He gave you a serious look.

You had never been invited by Jason Carver to a party before.

Even when Steve used to throw parties, that was different. You knew Steve, had mutual friends with him. Jason was hardly an acquaintance.

"I don't know," You thought about it, weighing the pros and cons.

"Give it a chance," He smiled again. "Give me a chance. I can pick you up and everything."

You gave him a once over.

Jason wasn't a regular on your radar, but you did notice him. It was hard not to with his popularity and good-boy persona. And you didn't have any plans.

"Oh, what the hell," You nodded with a grin. His dashing expression was blinding. "I'll bring beer."

You should have known it was too good to be true.

Jason had his own agenda all along. You couldn't have known that it was a trap, that you were just another checkmark on his list.

You couldn't have known even when he picked you up in his truck the next day. He was a gentleman, complimenting your little black dress and bat earrings. You got all dolled up for Halloween. He even offered to help you bring your beer bottles to his truck.

For a fleeting moment, you were excited.

But as soon as you opened the truck door, his old basketball buddies jumped out. You were in too deep. You knew something was terribly wrong.

They dragged you into the backseat, covering your mouth and holding you down. The fight was laughable. There were four of them, covering your mouth with duct tape and surrounding you in the truck. They were terrible.

Your wrists and the crook of your elbows were taped. Above your knees and down by your ankles were taped. It was a little more than overkill.

And then, you were trapped between two of them in the backseat while Jason drove, one of his cronies messing with the music.

You couldn't fight off the roll of nausea in your stomach as one of them wafted something under your nose. Was it sage? Weed? It was disorienting, and you couldn't get away.

"Let's go catch us a monster, boys." Jason grinned, looking in the rearview mirror with wild eyes. "This is the year; I can feel it."

There was something deceptively charming in those eyes, something much darker than you thought Jason Carver could be capable of.

There was no Halloween party at Skull Rock.

You tried to fight against the hazy feeling in your head, even as Jason's silhouette in the front seat got blurry and you slumped against the backseat.

He was the monster.

The night was quiet when Jason and his goons finally dragged you out of the truck and into the woods. You had no clear sense of direction. You felt stoned, your legs swaying lightly as he carried you over his shoulder.

The terrain was rugged, and you could feel stray branches and pine needles hitting the back of your legs.

Your vision was blurry, even as they finally broke through the trees to a small clearing. The trees dispersed, and as you were turned around, Skull Rock was the least of your problems.

In front of Skull Rock, Jason and his friends had drawn a symbol on the floor around you. A pentagram, for fucks sake. It was surrounded by a ring of salt, and you looked at your captor like he was bat-shit insane.

“What’s the matter?” He cooed, crouching down in front of you. “We did this all for you. I said it’s gonna be a lot of fun.”

Two images of Carver swayed in front of your eyes, and you groaned out a complaint as he tugged you forward to the middle of the circle. Your knees dug into the cold ground, and you tightened your arms, trying to fight against him.

“Come on, don’t be like that.” He tormented, pulling a dark robe over his shoulders. “We can’t do it without you. There’s never been anyone in the god-forsaken town quite like you. No one is good enough. No one pure enough.”

Your stomach was in knots.

Around the outside of the circle, you could see the others lighting candles and setting down bowls of spices, crystals, and coins around the star tips of the pentagram. You thought your heart was going to beat outside of your chest.

“There’s just one more thing.” Jason tugged at your hands, and you looked at him pleadingly. “Don’t look so scared, babe. You are the prettiest sacrifice we’ve had.”

You hardly had time to notice the pocketknife he procured before it was too late. He was tugging your hands, laying them palms up into the air before slicing across your skin. Your eyes went wide in horror, and you went to scream but couldn't.

Your hands were shaking, your eyes blurry with the threat of tears.

The next thing you knew, Jason pushed down to the forest floor, straight in the middle of the circle. And as your bloodied palms touched the ground, the men began to chant.

There was a pit of anguish in your stomach.

The candles wavered, and as Jason and his goons chanted, you could have sworn that a thick fog filled the area.

You pushed yourself up to your knees. A wild wind blew through the clearing, and the smell of iron filled your lungs.

You were going to die there.

The chanting waned and wavered until the words were booming in your head. You could feel every unintelligible syllable in the crevices of your heart. It was a seizing, aching feeling. You felt like it would pull you in different directions until you realized the candles blazed with a burning hellfire. You could feel the heat against your skin.

Something was happening.

A figure slowly emerged out of the fog, sprouting from the ground in front of you. Tall and humanoid, you fought back the cry clawing up your throat. You couldn’t see anything except for the outline of two fiery eyes. It was clear to see they were angry. You needed to get out of there.

It was a man stepping out of the fog. The candlelight illuminated the shadows of his body. He was bare, save for several tattoos scattered across his skin, and his hair was a wild halo of dark locks that cascaded around his shoulders. As the figure came into view, you had to shake your head to ensure your eyes weren’t deceiving you.

He was captivating.

Glowing eyes and a rounded nose looked down at the circle, his expression void of pleasantries.

"Abaddon, mischief maker, we summon you to the land of the living,” Jason’s voice boomed across the circle.

Even behind the ridiculous cloak, you could sense Jason’s confidence wane.

He got what he wanted, didn’t he?

The man, that thing, you thought, tilted his head to the side with a scowl. You almost thought you saw sharp canines poking into his bottom lip.

“We summon you with the blood of the innocent. That's what we brought you.” Jason called out with a snicker. “Hell, she might even be a virgin.”

Your head snapped from the figure to the cloaks, bile souring your tongue. You resented them, all of them.

The figure stepped forward, the dark fog swirling around his feet.

"You will do our bidding," Jason spoke bravely now. "We've called upon you, and you will obey my wishes-" But Jason's words faded as the creature reached its full height.

"No."

The lone syllable made your hair stand on end. You looked up at the man, what you so desperately tried to make out as a man, but it was fruitless. His movements were too smooth, calculated like a predator.

The heated embers of his eyes were harrowing, annoyance dancing across his features. Two short horns were poking out from under the mess of curls.

The creature stalked forward in the circle, and Jason took a step back, but you couldn't move. You couldn't breathe.

"I was not summoned here for you. I don’t serve you."

His expression shifted as he towered over you. The beast of a man crouched down to your eye level. It took everything in you not to scream or lash out. But you were terrified.

He was deceptively handsome, and the shadows of his face were illuminated in the candlelight.

His eyes, blazing with hellfire, changed, just for a moment. If you blinked, you would have missed it, but you could have sworn those dark eyes were brown. That they were almost human. But it was gone in a flash. The weight of the situation you were in was harrowing.

"You're not supposed to be here."

The low rumble of his words was unexpected, and you looked up at him in shock. His words were gentle, his tone leveled.

His eyes narrowed, burning with something angry as he looked down at your palms. You were clutching them both to your chest. The dark cloth of your dress and exposed skin bloomed red.

You were trembling.

He reached out slowly, tugging your hands away from your body before looking at the slashes welling with blood. You were too frightened to move as his eyes swept back to yours.

"They hurt you."

With his other hand, s sharp claw cut the bindings on your arms and legs. It was like he was cutting through butter instead of layers of tape. You watched in amazement as he pulled the tape back from your lips. The shuddering breath you took didn’t deter him.

The man's focus returned to your bloody palms, cupping his hands under yours like a bowl. His hands were warm, his touch slowly dissolving the tension in your shoulders.

"They tricked me," You whispered blindly.

Your focus shifted, fixated on the feeling of his warm hands in yours. Hot, angry tears rolled down your cheeks. You watched as your blood bled between your fingers onto his and down to the ground. A low sound at the back of the creature’s throat pulled your eyes back to his.

It was frustrating. If you thought about it for a moment longer, you would have realized the sound of it was needy, longing even.

“What the hell is going on?” You heard Jason curse from outside the circle, making you wince.

The creature looked at you, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, sweetheart," His voice was tender, apologetic. Clawed fingers trailed up and over the side of your face. His eyes danced across yours.

You could have sworn you were in a trance.

For a moment, the pentagram and the men outside the circle disappeared. You let all thoughts fade away, looking at the man in front of you. And you just looked at him, scanning the curve of his eyebrows down to the cupid's bow of his lips. He was so stunningly familiar. God, he was beautiful.

"Close your eyes." He instructed, and at your hesitance, he leaned in. His clawed hand cradled your chin, and you watched his eyes soften for the second time, umber pools staring back at you. He smelled of earth and iron. “I will not forsake you.”

His tone was your undoing.

With another long moment of looking at him, you followed his instructions and closed your eyes. He hummed in approval as you felt his touch fall away.

There was a sudden crack, like lightning, in the air. You could smell metal, the heat of it fanning your face. But you kept your eyes closed.

You were steadfast even when the sound of shocked screams and pleas came from Jason and his band of goons. And then there was a thunderous noise of thousands of wings flapping around. A low-clicking noise surrounded you. Bats were swarming the skies. The sounds of carnage tore at your senses. Your lip quivered before you could control yourself.

And all too soon, it was quiet.

Fear gripped your heart, and you were compelled to call out.

“Ad – Abm –” You started but stumbled. You didn’t remember his name. There was a gentle sound of footsteps crunching on leaves before you heard him come back to you.

“I’m right here,” His voice was darker but still controlled. “Don’t call me that name, angel.”

You opened your eyes at the endearment. What was staring back at you was almost human.

You were right. His eyes were brown with the slightest glow, and Jason was gone as you looked around the circle. They were all gone. And his attention was solely on you.

“Your blood,” He urged, pulling your attention back to your hands. “Sweetheart, we need to stop the bleeding.”

You nodded blindly. God, when did your hands start shaking?

He took your left hand and turned it over, dragging his thumb along the incision.

The wound closed before your eyes, leaving behind a raised, thin scar. You let out a breath of relief. Rivulets of your blood stained his hands, but he didn’t care.

The man hesitated when he dropped your hand and moved to the other. You looked up at him carefully.

“You called for me,” His words were heavy, and the air around you was charged with electricity. When you looked up at him, his face was set with the hint of a smile. "I've waited lifetimes for you."

Your heart was hammering in your chest.

You tried to stutter out an apology, that it was all a big mistake, but the shake of his head silenced you. His intentions were set.

"You bled for me," He raised his other hand and sliced into his own palm with a clawed index finger. "And I will bleed for you.”

Thick, dark ichor pooled against his skin. It wasn't natural. You closed your fist instinctively.  

"But, why?" You dared to ask. "Why would you do that?"

The look he gave you turned into a boyish grin.

"Because you called for me. I'm bound to you," His eyes were tormenting. "You didn't think I'd go away so easily, did you? If you don't like the sun, I'll make it rain for you. I'll fix all your broken things. I'll keep you nice and close. I'll keep you safe. Don't send me away, angel."

The lilt of his voice was hypnotic.

You weren't sure you could turn him away. You didn't know if you even wanted to. He saved you.

As you listened, your heart ached. You wanted that. You wanted to believe him.

"I'm already bound." He tried again, inching closer.

His plea was so soft, so tender. At the call of your name, your breath hitched, looking up at those big brown eyes. He was looking down at you expectantly.

"Take my hand. Don't make me beg."

He was down on his knees in front of you, his face shrouded in shadows and candlelight. He wasn't the monster you thought him to be.

"Who are you?" You asked in a whisper.

You pushed yourself up to your knees, meeting his eye level.

"Just call me Eddie, sweetheart." He grinned, holding his palm up to you. "Please, take my hand. And I'll explain everything."

You weren't sure if it was the compelling look in his eyes or the softness of his words, but how could you say no?

He saved you. Eddie saved you from the monsters in the woods.

You took his hand without looking away from his eyes, feeling the heat and strength in his hold. You swore you could feel the inky ichor as it mixed with your blood into the cut.

And the way Eddie's eyes lit up? It was like you had hung all the stars in the sky.

But it was too much. The heat in your veins was all-encompassing. You could feel the nerves in your body going haywire.

Eddie’s toothy grin was the last thing you saw before your eyes fluttered shut. He pulled you close before you could fall, sinking into his embrace.

There was a new excitement in his eyes. The candlelight flickered, more intense than it had ever been before.

He was already bound to you. But what he didn't tell you was that you were willingly binding yourself to him. Eddie wasn't worried; he'd have forever to find a way to tell you.

Back to Hellfire Haunts.

#hellfire haunts #demon!eddie #demon!eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female!reader #eddie munson imagine #demon x reader

[mr-bas00nist]

On The Clock

Chris Redfield x Male reader

Summary: You and Chris are on a mission and things get a little…. Frisky.

Cw! Fingering, Handjob, Exhibitionism, Public sex, Vouyerism, Hold The Moan, Degradation, Blood and Humiliation. Readers also a big boy.

@xweirdo101x not your request but here ya go! :) also your welcome Jason @j-hauke

You and Chris were currently on the hunt for a B.O.W that had recently been sighted. There were other soldiers on the sight as you two drove to the ‘battleground’. “So how hostile is this motherfucker exactly?” You turn to Chris asking him with your arms crossed. “Not the most hostile weapon we’ve ever seen but we still need to deal with it.” He speaks keeping his eyes on the road.

When you guys arrived you saw a big creature being shot at. You guys began to shoot at it trying to be as careful as you could be to not get hurt. Soon it conjured more of it’s little demons leaving another thing to worry about. While Chris was shooting at it he didn’t pay attention to his environment resulting in a blow from the enemy. He stumbled to the ground grunting. You look over to his direction seeings he’s on the ground and quickly run over taking him to a nearby building to patch him up.

“That was stupid Redfield.” You speak shaking your head as you look at his bloodied leg. “Don’t fucking lecture me.” He rolls his eyes scoffing. You glare at him as you ‘accidentally’ pour a little more alcohol on his wound than what was needed. He winces at the sting of the alcohol on his fresh wounds. “Fuck…. Asshole.” He whispers breathlessly. You grin from ear to ear tying up his disinfected wound.

“Well that’s a bit rude.” You speak amused. He laughs a little rolling his eyes. “Like your not an asshole to me.” He leans into you looking for a kiss. You reciprocate grabbing his face and kissing him deeply. Before he can pull away you grab him back not wanting to end the kiss. Your hands began to wander around his body as the kiss got greedier and greedier.

You both pull away panting. You smile at him as you help him up. You pretend not to notice the growing hard on in his jeans. Before you can walk away he grabs your wrist panting. “Y-you can’t just leave me like this..” He speaks still panting from the previous kiss. “And why not?” You turn around caging him against the wall. “Because your cruel, but not that cruel.” You think about his words for a moment.

“Alright you got me there. But we gotta make this quick, understood?” You ask looking around. He nods eagerly. You smirk flipping him so he’s facing the wall. You quickly tug his pants down pulling his underwear down a bit. You slowly begin to rub your own growing erection against his ass. You snake your arm in front of him wrapping your palm around his dick. You slowly begin to pump him moving up and down slowly getting him even harder.

“Fuck-“ he lets out an especially loud moan making you look around for any signs of life. “Quiet down a little, your gonna get us caught. Bet you’d like that though?” You smirk picking up your pace. He groans nodding at the increased torture on his aching cock. “What a fucking whore.” You taunt continuing to pick up your pace. “What would your men think? Seeing their cold and calculated captain pinned against a wall moaning like there’s no tomorrow.”

He groans at your words. “F-Fuck, already close….” He moans out beginning to thrust his hips into your hand. You smirk deciding to degrade him to move him along. “God, you really enjoy shit like this? That’s really fucking pathetic, you lasted at least 30 fucking seconds and your already begging to cum?” You laugh picking up your pace as you begin to move at an inhuman speed.

He begins to twitch in your hand signaling he was close. “G-gonna, gonna c-“ before he can cum his phone rings. “Really, right now?” He groans in annoyance picking the phone up. You pause your motions listening curiously. “Captain! Do you and Major L/n need any help?!” You hear Piers shouting on the phone. Chris sighs heavily. “No Piers were fi-“ Chris chokes on his own words as you bend him over more prodding his entrance with your pointer finger.

He quickly muted the phone looking up at you with wide eyes. “What the hell is wrong with you!?” He shouts. “Better keep talking sweetheart.” You smirk fingering him slowly. He covers his mouth holding back a moan before beginning to speak again. Piers was a talker and always wanted to know what was going on which made this even better. “Y-yeah we’re fineeeee~” He moans quietly.

“Okay! Did you break your leg or something!? Or was it just a cut!?” Piers shouts trying to scream over the chaos outside. Chris shakes his head as he tries to speak again only to get cut off by a second finger. You click your tongue. “Well don’t keep him waiting, speak.” You whisper as he tries to not let out a peep. “J-j-just a good ol’ scratch P-Piers! Nothing to worry about!” Chris’s eyes roll back slightly as he begins to back into your fingers.

“Alright sir! I’ll report to everyone, just get out here as soon as you can!” Piers shouts. You speed up your fingers making Chris begin to twitch in your hands. His eyes go wide as he shakes his head no petrified. “B-bye P-piers-!” He quickly hangs up the phone as he cums with a loud moan. You smirk as you slowly pump his cock riding out his orgasm.

He pants against the wall breathing shakily as you pull your fingers out of him. “Honestly didn’t think you had it in you.” You speak impressed. His breath hitches as he shakes in your grasp. “Fuck you.” He sighs heavily smiling. “Maybe later. Come on, before they start looking for us.” You take your handgun out reloading. You quickly run out of the building leaving Chris alone.

He quickly pulls his underwear and his pants up running out with a shotgun in hand. Two soldiers watch as he runs back onto the field looking at each other. “I told you he was the fucking bottom.” One of them speaks. The other guy rolls his eyes.

“Fine I owe you a beer.”

#dom male reader #dom reader #chris redfield x reader #chris redfield x male reader #chris redfield smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil x you