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#but like the tail end of the vent

soap-ify · 5 months

Text

nsfw , minors dni .

okay but what if poly!141 with owner!price and hybrid pets!reader, ghost, gaz and soap

price adored his taskforce a lot. operating alongside powerful and trained dog hybrids was surely an experience, especially when he himself was just a human and the others treated him as if he was their owner. he started having a thing for it too, especially since ghost, gaz and soap were just so ruthless in the battlefield but with him? they were just some pups needy for his attention!

price thought that he didn't need anyone else other than his three beloveds, but that all changed when you came along.

you were recommended into the team by laswell herself — your reports are nothing short of outstanding and guess what? you also happened to be a hybrid. you were a great fit for the team.

you felt confused and anxious when you first met the whole team. price was more than welcoming, stern yet warm in his greeting as he introduced you to the others and went over the expectations. you were somewhat relieved to find hybrids like you — especially ones that were trained in similar harsh environments in order to be perfect for the military. humans seemed to either despise or fear hybrids — but price wasn't like them.

it didn't take you long to finally be aware of the dynamic they all had.

soap was the first one to be all comfortable and touchy with you amongst the other two hybrids. he was energetic and a menace, wagging his tail while he had trapped you beneath him, your gaze all confused and shy. "ye are such a sweet wee pup." he cooed, smothering your face up with kisses while simultaneously grinding his hips with yours. it wasn't long until you had started to hump against him too, feeling just so horny and warm, puppy ears twitching happily.

gaz had caught you and soap grinding against one another like some damn dogs in heat — which you guys technically were. he was all pouty and moody about the fact that you two were having all the fun without him. how cruel! he was quick to pounce onto the bed, grabbing your face and pulling you into a sweet kiss, eager to taste the adorable new pup in their team. he was more gentle than soap, but playful in his own way too, nipping on your sensitive puppy ears to watch your eyes glisten up with unshed tears while you were lost in this blissful tangled mess you were trapped in.

the night had ended with both of them rutting into you — gaz laying on his bed with you on top of his, his chest pressed against your back while his cock was nicely stretching your tight ass whereas soap was on top of you both, his cock ramming into your soaking cunt so desperately while his hands pawed at your tits through your shirt, both of the pups already so lovestruck by you, their cum dripping out of your holes.

ghost had always kept his distance from you ever since you had joined the taskforce about two months ago. you had started thinking that maybe he loathed you or something, but that all changed when you had sheepishly made your way to him in the middle of the night, visibly shaken up from an awful nightmare you had, your cheeks streaked with tears. you didn't even know why you had come to him out of the other two hybrids or even price. maybe because your room was the nearest to his. ghost would have initially kicked you out, but seeing this new pup so vulnerable pulled at the strings of his heart.

he had scooped you up in his big, strong arms and let your face nuzzle into his firm chest while you laid on top of him, soft sobs leaving your lips while you vented on and on about how the nightmares never stopped ever since you were initially rescued from the place where they tortured and trained the hybrids. a damaged pup just like him, he thought while his large hand gently rubbed the back of your head. your cries had slowly died down into soft sniffles, those teary eyes of yours gazing at his face so fondly — unmasked and fully bare for you. it was the first time he didn't bother putting a mask around you after all.

he had let you stay in his room for the night, his sweatpants lazily tugged down as his cock dragged in and out of your sweet tight cunt, his thumb playing with your clit to make you forget about all your troubles, your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck. he didn’t bother pulling out even when you had fallen asleep, relishing in the way your warm wet walls were wrapped around his shaft, unconsciously clenching.

price had waited until you were nice and comfortable with all his pups. of course he knew about the naughty little things you had been doing with the other three. and even though he had wanted it to happen, he didn’t let the opportunity of teasing you pass away.

he had you splayed on his lap, your mouth clumsily sucking on his cock while his large callused hand delivered firm slaps on the soft flesh of your ass, the sting causing your tail to flinch and straighten up while you whimpered around his cock, sobbing. “tsk, such a bad pet. getting stuffed with my pups’ cocks without me knowing?” he would huff some smoke out after taking another hit from his cigar.

he wasn’t a big meanie though! he kept caressing all the slap marks on your ass after he was done spanking you, his other hand giving you the head pats that you craved so badly from your owner, his cock still stuffed in your pretty mouth.

“be a good girl f’me, hm?”

you eagerly nodded, his hand pulling your head up from his cock to give you a kiss.

sometimes, price would let you all have fun together with him. you and soap would messily be sucking on his thick cock while gaz would be clumsily rubbing his angrily flushed cock on price's hand, pleading to cum since price had been edging him for hours. ghost on the other hand was given permission to fuck you since he was price's good lieutenant — always quick to finish tasks. so while you were on your knees sucking price's cock, ghost was already behind you, working your sweet cunt open with his fingers so he could fuck you later, soap whining besides you since he also wants to be fucked by his lt!

they all were smitten for you, and it was only a matter of fact until you'd fall in love with them too — unless you already were.

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gremlingottoosilly · 1 month

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What would monster Konig do with a little harpy reader? Like an exotic type or even just common little dove, maybe she works in coms and information and the big boi catches sight of her fluffy feathers >///<

Imagine working as one of the scouts, mostly because your smaller size allowed you to fly undetected and get into tight spaces...and your first meeting with Konig was literally because you made a small nest in one of the unused vents of the base. You weren't aware that it was a vent with one end ending up near the colonel's quarters...and you didn't know that your soft moans and mumbling in your sleep were keeping him up at night. He was so freaking horny, endlessly searching for the source of the sound and wonderful smell - he just wasn't aware that a perfect mate can be so close. You're his direct opposite - he is the sea monster, you belong to the skies. You don't know how to swim, you hate getting your wings wet - still, you are trying your best to be respectful towards the colonel, understanding exactly how hard his work is. You're respectful, you're undetectable, you're flying under the radar...and yet, somehow, he manages to get you. Konig often uses your wings and your fluffy, feathery tail to overstimulate you - he knows how sensitive it is, how even the slightest touch to your feathers will somehow make you tremble, even though it doesn't really make sense...and he can drive you crazy from just biting on the hard part of your wings, making you scared that he will rip them away. It would be so easy, too - chain his little birdie down in their gilded cage, only allow her to go out if she promises to never go away...he won't be like this, of course...or you hope so, at least. Konig makes you the prettiest nest with the shiniest trinkets - he especially dives to the deepest part of the nearest seas so he can give you some shiny pearls and little shells, smiling as you parade your trophies around and display them in your nest. At least your harpy nature made it easier for you to carry his eggs...although your protective nesting behavior is far more adorable when you're a bit dizzy.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader #monster!konig #yandere cod

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vesppperoro · 6 days

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Hey hey hey !! Hope your day has been great !!You should so write something for a Sinner reader !!! I had an idea for one.

Maybe a fem ! Cheshire cat like Sinner ? I imagine she died in the 1800s but her style resembles that of a goth. Instead or purples n pinks , I'd imagine she'd be a black and pink color !! They could be like Alastor !!

Maybe they'd also he like the actual Cheshire cat , but she can float and stuff too. If she had abilities relating to time , like Alice in Wonderland , that would be awesome. I imagine she'd be laid back as hell but full of sarcasm. Her grin also never leaves her face. Perhaps she also does the appearing and disappearing randomly thing too ! Especially the part where she disappears while her smile remains in place for a second or two until it too disappears.

If you could do this , that'd be awesome !! If not , ignore this. Thank you !!

Hazbin Hotel Cast with Cheshire Cat Sinner! Reader (fem)

Includes: Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Niffty, Sir. Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Alastor.

A/N: The image below is what they attached to another ask. I went off of it :)

Charlie Morningstar

She LOVES you SO MUCH.

You’re a hostess for the hotel. She met you through Alastor.

Alastor summoned you because he owns your soul. What you sold your soul for, she doesn’t know. She didn’t push you for it.

But she loves your style. She always asks you for tips and sometimes steals your outfits (with your permission because stealing is wrong).

She always jumps whenever you randomly appear next to her, floating and smiling sinisterly.

She loves the deep conversations the both of you have. You tell her about some of the things you remember from her time and she writes it down. Human things were so strange.

Even though you’re owned by Alastor, you’re powerful as hell too.

Whenever the loan sharks attacked, you helped protect the hotel.

I imagine that you’d be able to grow in size as well.

Anyways. You two always chat about things. You’re her go to gossip person!

She loves your tail SO much. Whenever you’re floating around her, you lightly place it around her chest and she pets it.

Vaggie

She didn’t trust you at first. You were way too similar to that stupid radio demon.

You were always smiling, but your smile creeped her out more.

Your sudden appearing and disappearing creeped her out too.

She didn’t trust you for the first few months you were there.

Whenever you disappeared and your smile remained, it creeped her out to no ends.

She warmed up to you, however, when you protected them no matter what.

She likes taking naps with you.

You two also have many deep conversations. You two understand each other quite a bit.

Angel Dust

LOVED your vibe.

Still made lewd jokes about your cat things.

“Do you meow or purr when you cum?”

You did not answer that.

He flirts with you too, even if he isn’t actually attracted to you.

He plays with your tail often.

He loves how you float around!

He won’t admit it, but he loves when you pick him up and float around with him.

You two are best friends, actually.

He finds your chest fluff funny because he has some too.

“Is that supposed to cover your lack of tits?”

When he told you about Val, you almost lost your smile.

You protect him as much as you can.

He trusts you enough to vent to you. You appreciate his trust.

Husk

You’re both cats. You understand each other.

Also the fact you’re both owned by Alastor. You two don’t really like him, so you bond over that.

The deep conversations you both have has also strengthened your bond.

Drinking buddies!! You can hold your liquor better than he can.

You time hang out often as well. He finds you to be a break from the crazies in the hotel.

You two sometimes fly together. You float around him while he flies. You have to grab him sometimes.

You two probably sung a song together. Maybe your own version of Whatever It Takes.

You two have definitely pet each other. He purrs around you.

You two sometimes just chill in silence together.

Niffty

Same thought process as how she feels with Alastor.

She calls you a big bad girl.

She loves your style so much! She always climbs on you.

She pets you like a spoiled kitty.

She loves that you try to pounce on rodents, even if you’re twice their size.

Bug killing partners!!

You two share a BUNCH of dark ideas with one another.

You two have to be separated due to your shared love for chaos.

You treat her like a chaotic daughter.

She saw your true form once and she will never forget it.

She LOVED it SO MUCH.

She always asks if you can turn back into it, but you usually refuse.

Sometimes you float around with her in your arms. She adores it.

Sir. Pentious

You and him have a similar relationship as him and Alastor have.

You two were enemies at one point.

You always beat him, but he fought you a lot.

When he joined the hotel, you knew something was off.

You joined Vaggie and Angel Dust in It Starts With Sorry.

“Cant we just kill him? Shoot him and spill his blood?” You took a middle note in the alto key.

Past that, you two have had some better experiences.

He thinks you’re scary, but he doesn’t mind hanging out with you.

Your shared experiences of life brought you two together.

He probably developed a small crush on you before he fell in love with Cherri Bomb.

Cherri Bomb

Similar to you and Sir. Pentious, you were enemies.

However, you two became frenemies.

She thought you were badass and you thought she was too.

Two girl bosses fr.

You two have definitely fought others for territory before.

When she busted the wall of the hotel, you were overjoyed to see her.

You two probably still do drugs together.

She’s your gossip girl.

You, her, and Angel hang out very often together.

Their duo turned into a trio.

You still have a friendly rivalry with one another.

You two definitely had a song together.

Alastor

And finally, the man you sold your soul to.

You sold your soul when you were at your lowest point to this man. Little did you know it would be the biggest regret of your life.

You try to replicate him. The whole smile and hostess like thing.

He finds you charming.

Your shared loved for radio is what makes you two able to converse without him knocking you down a peg.

He teases you about your cat features, as he does with Husk.

He only had to show his authority to you once and it scared the shit out of you.

You cowered in the corner.

But you put that off.

When he randomly summoned you for whatever hotel work he wanted you for, you were originally pissed.

However, you two have gotten to know each other better through this.

Maybe your soul contract thing wasn’t too bad.

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mangostarjam · 7 days

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knot happening (part one) — bnha, alpha!bakugou katsuki x f!reader, aged up characters, established relationship, a/b/o dynamics, use of "brat" and "pipsqueak" as pet names, smut in the second part (coming soon), omegaverse!au for the spring fever collab run by @lorelune ! 1.2k words

your new company has some... interesting policies for employee heat cycles. you do your best to find a loophole.

"I can't do it."

"The hell d'ya mean, you can't do it?"

You give your Pro Hero boyfriend and resident alpha A Look. Bakugou Katsuki has the grace to shut his mouth, but he rolls his eyes and drapes a heavy arm over your shoulders, yanking you into him on the faded yellow couch you picked out together years ago.

"This is my first heat at this new job, and it's just... embarrassing. Do you know what they do, Katsuki?"

He raises a sharp blonde eyebrow in invitation.

"They..." your voice drops with horror, "they announce it to the whole company."

"Hah?" Katsuki sits up a little, strong thighs flexing beneath his gym shorts. He came in on the tail end of your mental breakdown, finding you pacing in the living room of your apartment with your hands tugging incessantly on your borrowed shirt. "What the fuck?"

"I know," you wail, "it's ridiculous! The president sends out a company wide email explaining your absence, and the HR team sends you a care basket, and the Sales team sets up a pre-heat drinking party! Do you know what's in the care basket, Katsuki?"

"Do I wanna know?"

"It's filled with sex toys, babe! SEX TOYS! From my company! They're branded!"

A spark lights up in Katsuki's otherwise vaguely concerned expression. "Don't they know you're mated?"

"Yes, of course, that was in my file," you wave him off, still seeing horror images of company branded sex toys floating in your mental vision. "I heard from Sasaki in Accounting that the toys are for when your mate needs a break. Y'know, from fucking."

Katsuki's derisive snort is loud and breaks you out of your personal hellhole. "What kinda fuckin' alpha needs a break when their mate needs 'em?"

"Well, not every alpha is a big strong Pro Hero like you," you point out, poking him on one annoyingly firm bicep. The familiar scent of caramel and smoke fills your nose. "And actually, maybe I should ask if they've got any onaholes for when you're the one in heat. Last time I needed another two days to recover."

"Hah?! There's no fucking way I'll use one of those!"

You peer up at your boyfriend reproachfully. "I like being able to walk, Katsuki."

"You don't need to fuckin' walk if I'm carryin' you everywhere, brat."

"Hmm, we'll see," you say. Katsuki's red eyes flash as you tap your bottom lip with your finger thoughtfully. "There's gotta be a way for me to take a week off work without telling them I'm going into heat."

"There's no way you'll be able to avoid it," Katsuki rumbles, leaning forward to catch your finger with his teeth. He nips at it lightly before leaning down more to capture your lips in a sweet kiss. That, more than anything, finally makes your anxiety simmer down. "You always smell so fucking good before it starts. Everyone's gonna notice."

"You're the only one who can do anything about it, though, so you'll have to keep it in your pants or quit picking me up after work."

"Not happening," Katsuki presses another kiss along your hairline and noses into the strands, sniffing deeply. It tickles, and you laugh, trying halfheartedly to shove him off of you. "What else do they give in these care packages?"

"Actually, besides the super cursed sex toys, they include really good snacks and electrolyte drinks to keep your energy up," you say, "and I'm really glad my company is so open about it all, but it's just so embarrassing!"

Katsuki hums, letting you vent out your worries. You look really pretty like this, dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of pajama shorts, some soft cotton thing that barely covers your perfect ass. He pulls your legs onto his lap and you flop backwards on the couch, moving on from your minor breakdown to sharing a funny story that happened to one of your new coworkers the other day. He had missed hearing about it then, stuck on overtime for a patrol, so he basks in your attention now as the two of you laze around on the couch.

The afternoon passes into evening. It's a rare lazy Monday together — your new job lets you have three day weekends in exchange for slightly longer work days, and Katsuki's patrol schedule happened to line up this week. You're digging into a pint of ice cream after polishing off a plate of his delicious (but spicy) curry and rice when it comes up again.

"What're you gonna do about your heat?"

"Well, I was thinking," you slide your spoon into the thick cream and wave it at him, "I'll still need to use my authorized heat cycle time off, since I want to save my vacation and comp time for real uses, so there's no avoiding the company finding out..."

Katsuki raises an eyebrow and accepts the spoonful of ice cream you're dangling in his face. His tongue pokes out to chase a bit of cream lingering on the edge of his lip and he grins, sharp, at the way your eyes track the movement. "But...?"

You have a feeling Katsuki hasn't fully thought through the horrors of corporate sponsored pleasure items, but you have, and the thought of everyone at your new company knowing you'll be getting fucked within an inch of your life makes you want to shrivel up and die. All companies have policies in place to protect time off for heat cycles, as society couldn't function otherwise, but this is the first place you've worked where impending heat cycles are declared company-wide. Normally it's just marked as time off.

"But they don't have to find out until after it starts, right? So as long as I can get through the pre-heat stuff without anyone noticing, I can avoid the cursed care package and company-wide email!"

"Ain't happening," Katsuki says flatly.

"We've been mated for sooo long now, babe," your gaze flicks up to meet his and you pout. Your boyfriend outright snorts when you start batting your eyelashes at him. "Surely you can resist the pre-heat symptoms this one time? I swear I'll get over my company's shenanigans once I see it happen to a few other people. It's really great how supportive they are, but I need some time, that's all."

"Your heat is in like. Two weeks," Katsuki says.

You pout up at him some more.

"During your last heat cycle we broke the mattress frame when I missed your first few pre-heat days."

"Yeah, but that was because you had that mission that went long," you say. If you could just... convince him... "C'mon, babe, this will be different! You're such a strong, powerful alpha — resisting me will be a piece of cake! Unless..." you pause and scoop another bite of ice cream into your mouth, "you're too weak to resist me."

"Are you callin' me weak?" Katsuki narrows his eyes. You wave your spoon casually and shrug.

"I mean... all you've gotta do is ignore my pre-heat. I'm just an itty bitty omega..."

Getting into a staring match with Pro Hero Dynamight is not on anyone's Top Ten Good Ideas list, but you match your boyfriend's red glare steadily.

"Alright, pipsqueak, you're on," Katsuki scoffs. "We'll see who's beggin' for who by the time your heat rolls around."

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

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The first notes of Eddie’s guitar solo tear through The Upside Down; Steve watches in horrified fascination as the bats follow the noise, as they form a thick, black cloud, like a plague of locusts.

And it hits him then that he simply cannot set one foot inside the Creel House.

“Nance,” he says. His voice cracks.

She turns to look at him, and suddenly she isn’t a vengeful warrior with a sawn-off shotgun: she’s just a girl who lost her best friend, who has spent years haunted by ‘what if…?’

“Trust your gut,” she says firmly, and that’s all he needs.

He spends a fleeting second squeezing Robin’s hand, just to steady him, and then he’s running back to the trailer.

The one thing that reassures him is that Eddie and Dustin are perfectly on time, the song cutting off just as they planned. Now run, you two, Steve thinks, as his chest burns with the effort, get inside and be safe, be safe, be safe.

But then he reaches the trailer, and he knows that something’s wrong.

Because the bats are clustered in one spot on the roof, scrabbling over the top of one another, and it makes him think of flies descending on roadkill.

He gets past all the wire and defences, and none of them take any notice. He pushes the front door open with the force of his shoulder, slams it shut again, makes sure it sticks.

And then he hears screaming.

He whips around to find Eddie driving his spear through a bat with a guttural cry. He’s on the floor, his upper body shielding something.

And then Steve sees Dustin. Dustin on the ground. Dustin bleeding.

No.

He sprints across and covers Dustin, too, slotting next to Eddie to form a complete shelter.

“Steve,” Eddie whispers, and his face is ashen. “Fuck, it’s the vents, they’re in the fucking vents. I tried to—D-Dustin—I wasn’t quick enough, Christ, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”

And he keeps repeating that, as if feverish, striking out again with the spear as another bat swoops for them. His aim is true, but that doesn’t matter now. It’s too late.

Steve looks down at the wound on Dustin’s thigh, at the blood spilling out relentlessly. And as Eddie cups Dustin cheek, pleads, “Stay awake, H-Henderson, you hear me? Dustin? Dustin, please,” Steve spots the bite on Eddie’s wrist. It’s barely anything, just a nick.

But it’s enough. Steve knows that it doesn’t matter how fast he is—the bats will just keep coming. They’re on the scent, to hunt. To devour. And his wounds are dried up. Old.

Fresh blood dripping from Eddie’s wrist. Dustin’s bloody leg.

Oh, you’re going to die, Steve thinks. Both of you.

Then he thinks Well, fuck that.

He flings off his jacket, wraps it tight around Dustin’s thigh. Dustin whimpers, eyelids fluttering.

“Shit, sorry, bud,” Steve whispers. “I know it hurts, I know, I know…”

Underneath the screech of more bats, he presses a brief, fierce kiss to Dustin’s forehead, pushes back his sweaty curls. I love you.

Eddie takes out another pair of bats in quick succession, slamming them with his shield—narrowly avoids their tails wrapping around his wrist. His luck won’t last forever, Steve knows that.

So he just has to be quicker.

He rips the end of his shirt with his teeth, pushes the torn fabric into Eddie’s hand.

“Eddie. Eddie, listen,” he says urgently. “It’s the blood, okay? They’re coming for the blood.”

Eddie wraps the fabric around his wrist as if on autopilot, eyes wide with fear.

“It’s the blood,” Steve repeats, as calmly as he can. “You’ve gotta stop the bleeding, okay? You can do that.”

Eddie nods jerkily, and some of his panic fades away, replaced with a white hot determination. He sets his jaw.

“Hey, Dustin?” Steve says. Tries to be gentle while raising his voice, praying it breaks through the pain-induced fog. “Eddie’s got you, okay?”

“Yeah,” Eddie chokes out. “I’ve got you, Henderson.”

His hand strokes through Dustin’s hair, too, and God, Steve trusts him. Trusts him so damn much.

Trusts him enough for this.

Steve jerks his head upwards to the gate. “Stop the bleeding. Get him home.”

Eddie nods again, but a wrecked laugh comes out. He ducks as another bat breaks in; Steve temporarily takes the spear, kills it without flinching.

“Jesus! How the fuck are we supposed to do that, Harrington? There’ll be hordes of those fuckers in a minute.”

“You’ll be fine,” Steve says. He discreetly pats at his pockets. Feels the handle of the switchblade. Touches Dustin one last time, a palm across his brow. “Look after him.”

“Hey, I—I don’t like your tone, man,” Eddie says. “We’re looking after him, together. Together, all right? Fucking promise me, Harrington.”

“You promised me first, remember? Stop the bleeding, get him home.”

“No, no, no, Steve, don’t you fucking dare—”

But Steve is already heading outside. He locks the door behind him, just in case, but he already knows Eddie can’t leave—won’t leave Dustin behind. There’s a thump at the door, a desperate jiggling of the handle. Steve shouldn’t look behind. He shouldn’t.

But, God. He can’t help it.

Through the glass, he can see Eddie standing there, breathing raggedly. Terrified.

Steve can’t hear him through the cacophony of the bats’ cries, the thunder and lightning. But he can read his lips.

Don’t. Please don’t.

Steve brings out the blade. Slashes it right across his palm.

Eddie screams.

I’m sorry, Eddie, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what else to do.

Steve runs. He grins savagely as he hears the bats following him, all of them, like he’s the fucking Pied Piper of Hamelin.

Yeah, that’s right, you sons of bitches. Steve laughs through a searing pain in his side. You’ve already had a taste. Come and get me.

#tentatively saying 2 parts? tbd #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #dustin henderson #steve and dustin #eddie and dustin #the universes in which Steve is self-sacrificing are never ending

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yanderehsr · 7 months

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Hope you have a wonderful day! The quote “Always the bridesmaid never the bride” stuck in my head and prompted the idea behind this request

Can I request yandere angst Zhongli x adeptus reader. With this context in mind: the reader has a big crush on zhongli due to him saving them from danger but Zhongli was in love with Guizhong and was ignorant of teh reader’s infatuation with him. The reader was always there for him patiently listening him vent about his emotions and even giving him good and helpful advice when Zhongli asked them about how to court Guizhong. But as we all know Guizhong unfortunately dies leaving Zhongli heartbroken. Even during his darkest moment the reader was always there for him lending him a willing ear or doing small things for him such as taking careof his work. But years go by and Zhongli is.. well he is now living among the people of Liyue and focus on making it prosper that accidentally ignores the reader’s obvious feelings for him. So after years of being push aside and also out of respect for Guizhong the reader just stops pursuing Zhongli romantically and avoids him, going out of there way to avoid him so that they no longer feel the pain of a broken heart. What would Zhongli do when he finds out that the person who stuck by his side amd whom he thought of a very close friend was in love with him? And to what lengths would he go through to get them back again.

-Thanks for reading my request!

Took some time but finally found motivation to write, I decided to go with female reader for this one, hope you'll enjoy😄

Trigger Warning: Yandere, Obsessive behaviour, Possessive behaviour, Kidnapping, Suggestive at the end

Someone would need to tell Zhongli about your previous crush for him to know of it, someone like Ganyu or Cloud Retainer. It shocks him, he had never thought of you like that, it makes him think about it.

Zhongli remembers how you used to listen to his frustrations, helped him with own crush on the now deceased Guizhong, you were always on his side no matter the situation, to spend his life with you, it honestly didn't sound all that bad, it sounded lovely really.

And that is when Zhongli takes notice, he hasn't seen you for a couple of years, when did you distance yourself from him, were where you now. Maybe he should go out and search for you tomorrow.

He searches for days, weeks but he can still not find you, it's almost like... like you are avoiding him, no no that was impossible, you liked him right, he thinks of the smile you always wore and how beautiful it was, he truly was a fool for not noticing earlier.

When Zhongli finally finds you again he can feel his heart beating in his chest, you look just like you used to, every last deatil as it had been a millennium ago, he hugs you from behind, he has finally found his love, he doesn't hesitate to confess and he was sure you would accept, you loved him afte-

"I'm sorry Morax, but I have moved on and so should you"

Zhongli goes real quiet upon hearing that, he was so sure of your answer but you are here telling him you have moved on, nononononono, this can't be happening, you were supposed to be with him, you loved him right, you were supposed to be his mate forevermore.

The lack of response from Zhongli makes you turn around and the sight is one to fear, his eyes slit as a snake and he looks at you with possessiveness in his eyes, markings of geo formed on his arms, something was behind him, it couldn't be a tail could it?

The ground shook, even without his gnosis he still had unbelievable strenght, he closes in on you as you struggle to even stand, he can't loose you as well, he needs to tie you down to him, but how.

Zhongli hugs you, unbothered by your struggling he came up with an idea, he would transfer you to an adepti's abode, where you will be given his first time, pump you so full of him that it would be impossible for you to not end up with children, his children. Zhongli loves you so much he almost can't wait.

"Mine, you are mine, it was my mistake for not realising your love for me until it was too late, but I'm sure I can make you love me again MY mate"

#yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin #yandere male #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader

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talesofesther · 2 years

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dead channels

Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie finds dead channels on a walkie-talkie to vent about his feelings and everything he goes through. One day, you happen to stumble upon his frequency.

A/N: I can't remember where I saw a prompt like this, but I knew that I had to write something about it. I think it's important to say that I know very little about how walkie-talkies work. And yes I went way overboard with this story but I truly loved how it turned out; it's a big one, the biggest one shot I've ever written, but I promise, it's worth it.

Word count: 11k

Masterlist

February 7, 1985

You were annoyed, and Dustin would hear about it for giving you a walkie-talkie without telling you what channel you were supposed to be using.

You paced in your living room, switching the frequencies, finding dead channel after dead channel. For ten minutes the only noise coming from the device in your hands was static.

Until you turned the switch one more time, and the static stopped. You clenched your fist in victory, sitting down on your couch and about to voice your frustrations to your younger friend.

"… I hadn't seen him in four years, man."

To your surprise though, someone on the other end of the connection spoke first.

A deep frown etched itself into your face when you heard the muffled voice. It wasn't one you could recognize, clearly not Dustin's. The words were laced with a distant sizzle, maybe because the person talking was too far from your location or the walkie they were using was too beat up. The tone was quiet too as if spoken without the intention of anyone hearing it.

Against your better judgment and with the help of innocent curiosity, you didn't switch channels.

"I don't know what I was expecting. Shit, I shouldn't have been expecting anything. Uncle Wayne was furious when he walked in on us and saw my bloody nose, he chased him off, yelling for him to never come back, not even caring what he needed the money for. I- I wanted to say something too but… Damnit.."

You heard what you assumed was a sniff before the stranger kept on talking.

"Dad did always make it clear that I was his biggest mistake, guess I just wasn't expecting him to come back and throw it at my face after all these years. Again."

The words were a private confession you weren't supposed to hear. There was no answer for the muffled voice. This person was using what he thought was a long-forgotten channel as some sort of diary, maybe. At least that was your first assumption.

You ran a thumb over the grey plastic of the walkie-talkie on your hands, finger hovering above the switch. Your knee bumping up and down. Should you say something? Should you change frequencies and forget this ever happened?

You changed channels, but not before memorizing the frequency.

February 19, 1985

Almost two weeks went by before you heard the lonely voice on the dead channel again. You told yourself it wasn't creepy to set your walkie-talkie to the channel when you weren't using it.

You stood in front of your kitchen counter, cutting up potatoes for your dinner. The chicken was already heating up and you sneaked tiny pieces of it to your dog when your mom wasn't looking.

The walkie rested on the dining table, you liked to keep it close these days. One never knows when the upside-down might decide to pay a visit.

"So uh, Hellfire has a new member."

You nearly cut your own finger when the static buzzed and, right after, the stranger's voice was invading your house. You turned around, carefully, as if the person knew you were listening in.

"His name's Gareth, seems like a cool guy. Honestly, I'm just happy that we now have enough people for a full campaign, I- I have all of it planned out and I think it's gonna be great, the storyline is thrilling…"

Subconsciously, you found yourself smiling. The kitchen was empty, save for your dog wagging his tail, and you were smiling as if someone had just told you the good news you were waiting for.

You didn't know this person, this was the second time you were hearing his voice, yet the almost childlike excitement that laced his tone today filled your chest with similar joy. A stark contrast to the last time you heard him.

Was it too weird to feel like you were starting to know him?

February 20, 1985

It didn't take long for you to hear from him again, not even a full day had gone by.

You had just gotten home. Throwing your car keys on top of your bed and removing your coat. On the horizon and past houses and trees, the sun was starting to lower itself, you looked at the orange rays through your window, stretching your arms.

You were rummaging through your wardrobe in search of pajamas when you heard it.

"I fucking… this school, man… Jaso-… ruined my da-"

The voice was laced with static and fading in and out of connection, the sound muffled by your backpack. You were in the process of removing your shirt as you raced towards your bag, almost tripping over your discarded sneakers.

Pulling open the zipper, you snatched the walkie and adjusted the antenna.

"… been working on that campaign for weeks man, weeks, and that douchebag just… He- he…"

You sat down on the floor of your bedroom, in nothing but your jeans and a bra; the tone of his voice slicing through your heart and making it bleed. Your eyes were unfocused as you loosely held the device, waiting for the lonely voice.

"Ripped it to pieces and threw it in the mud as if it was nothing. It's not fair. Shit, it's not fair, and I- I wanted to fight back y'know? But…"

You heard a sigh, heavy and tired.

"Yeah I froze, it's not like three against one would be much of a fight anyway."

The static came and the voice was gone. You stayed there, the wooden floor starting to become cold under your knees. Your eyebrows pulled slowly into a frown. Does this person study at Hawkins High? It's not like Hawkins had many options regarding school but still, it left you all the more frustrated that you couldn't pinpoint who it was.

Granted, your only normal year in high school was the first, and you didn't remember much about it. After that, Will went missing, and… Your mind had been a bit numb to the normal days ever since, you wouldn't be surprised if this person was a classmate of yours.

Abril 29, 1985

After a couple of months, you genuinely felt as if you knew this person.

It was odd if you so much as stopped to think about it. He opened his heart to what he thought was an abandoned channel, yet you were always there, listening; but never talking back. You knew his voice by memory, yet he didn't even know there was someone on the other end.

Sometimes — most of the time — there was a pang of nagging guilt at the back of your mind. But you'd usually think to yourself; what if, someday, something happens and he needs someone?

Well, you'd most likely be there, and if anything, the thought made you feel a little better about your curiosity.

The lonely boy on the walkie-talkie became your secret. A secret, for the sole reason, that he also became your comfort. These days your house was mostly always empty. You slept with the device resting on your bedside table. If you closed your eyes forcefully enough, you could almost feel as if he was there with you. He became a constant presence in your day, even when he didn't speak, you knew he was there. Knowing there was someone else out there made you feel less alone.

Sometimes, when the sizzled voice coming from the device was too shaky, laced with tears and sorrow; the guilt made itself more present, you wished you had the courage to speak up. To tell him that you were there too, that you could be there for him if he wanted you to, the same way he involuntarily was there for you.

After a long Thursday, you were sleeping, the rain outside had lulled you to an easy slumber tonight. However, when your bedside clock hit 2:08 AM, a distant voice started pulling you away from dreamland.

The sound was distant to your ears at first, waiting for your body to fully wake up. You opened your drowsy eyes with a frown, looking around your bedroom that was still engulfed in darkness, with only the street lamps making the raindrops on your window shine.

And then you heard the familiar voice again, quiet, molding itself into the night.

Maybe it was a bit foolish of you to leave the walkie on during the night, but these days, you couldn't help yourself.

"… and Wayne found a picture of my mom. He says I have her eyes."

He continued, apparently. You pushed yourself up with your elbows, the covers pooling at your waist. You wondered how much of his monologue you had missed.

"I don't…"

The tears staining his voice were pretty noticeable tonight.

"I don't remember her that well anymore, I wish we'd had more time… Shit."

And that was all. Static, and then he was gone again. It was fast, part of you wishing you hadn't slept at all.

July 4, 1985

You took a deep breath in, bracing yourself for the pain. With one hand grabbing onto the bathroom sink, you draped the antiseptic-covered cloth against the wound in your abdomen.

The paramedics at the mall did a good enough job, but some cuts still needed a bit more attention.

It had been one hell of a week and you barely had time to breathe between being trapped in a Russian elevator, finding a Russian base, being drugged and tortured by said Russians, and for the cherry on top, fighting a human flesh-based giant monster.

You were heavily considering a vacation from Hawkins.

Biting into your lip, you carefully closed the bandage over the wound. The white sink of your bathroom was covered in blood, as were the tip of your fingers and parts of your clothes. Tonight, you thanked the heavens for your mother's busy schedule, providing you with an empty house and plenty of time to clean up the mess.

Steve, the ever-sweet boy, offered to stay with you and help with… whatever you might need. You said you were fine, which, was a lie, but he had enough pain of his own to take care of.

You discarded your shirt to the bathroom floor, looking at your exposed skin in the mirror with a grimace. Long sleeves and sunglasses would be your go-to for a while if you wanted to avoid questions. You were popping open the buttons of your jeans when the crackle and static of the walkie-talkie made you jump. The warm voice of the stranger buzzed through right after.

"Starcourt just burst into flames."

You placed a hand over your racing heart, tightly shutting your eyes before reaching out for the walkie that rested against the tub.

"Yeah it's- it's crazy, the new town mall just burned to a crisp, at least that's what the news is saying. But I don't know man, I was making a deal near there when I heard the ambulances, there were so many of them; I mean, they said a lot of people died, so…"

You sat down on the edge of the tub, holding the walkie tightly between your hands as you listened intently.

"But still, I walked up to see what was happening and the place was filled with cops, army even, and well, ambulances. I had never seen something like that. And the weird thing is that there were some people from school there, Harrington for one, I also saw some kids from middle school and… Y/N was there…"

A chill ran up and down your spine when you heard him say your name. This person, the one you've been listening to in what was supposed to be a dead channel, the one who chased away the cold feeling of loneliness; knew you. Your lips hung open in shock, he said your name with such ease. He saw you there, he recognized you from a distance and under the blinking lights of the ambulances. Your chest constricted around your heart, squeezing tightly up towards your throat. You wanted to know him too.

You felt guilty for not being able to pinpoint who he was. Okay, the sound of a voice through a walkie-talkie is not the best or clearest. Still, if he knew you so easily, he definitely went to the same school as you, had the same classes, walked the same hallways.

Raising a hand, you rubbed your eyes and clawed at your hair. Urging yourself to think of someone, anyone.

"She- I saw her, she was sitting by herself in the back of an ambulance and I think she was crying. I'm not sure but, she looked so beat up, and- and hurt and I was walking, I mean, I was going to walk up to her to see if she was okay but a cop didn't let me. Maybe for the best, would just end up scaring her more I guess. To be honest, I don't know why I'm talking about it, I just felt like… Nevermind."

Scare you?

Your unfocused eyes stared ahead for long seconds. The cold from the tiles seeping through your body because of your bare feet.

One person came to your mind.

You hugged yourself, arm closing around your abdomen, feeling the cold, bruised skin underneath.

You thought of soft and unruly brown curls, tattoos, metal band t-shirts, and leather jackets.

You had never talked with him, shared maybe one class, literature; he rarely said anything then too. You passed by each other in the hallways, and you once caught him watching you in the cafeteria, he had been so flustered when it happened that you found it adorable. You then started shooting him small smiles here and there, and he reciprocated with big ones of his own.

Robin told you about him once. The School's Freak, she said people called him.

______

There was no way for you to be completely sure it was him, it's not like you could walk up to him one day and ask about it.

But you did start paying more attention to him, Eddie. It was hard when you only had him in the same class as yours one time, and other than that, only bumping into each other in the hallways didn't leave much room to observe.

You could walk up to him and talk, he seemed sweet. You didn't have all that courage yet though.

So you kept on listening, and your eyes kept on searching for him in the crowds. A few months went by like that, and you grew attached to someone you had never talked to.

December 6, 1985

Cold wind was raging outside and you were glad to have a working heater in your house. No amount of it felt enough though, as you sat on the carpet in front of the lit fireplace.

Your dog lay beside you, as you annoyed yourself by trying to set up the Christmas tree; it was a bit too big for the flower pot you had at home.

Slowly letting go of the branches, you said a quiet "yes" when the tree didn't topple over.

You started with putting on the blinking lights, turning them on to bathe the room in a multitude of colors. And as you rummaged through the trinkets, your ears caught in with the familiar static;

"So, I felt like setting up a Christmas tree this year. It's in the kitchen and it's not big, but it's there. I- I even bought some lights and there were some ornaments tucked away in a box that I found…"

The walkie was resting on top of your couch and you found yourself yet again smiling alone because of the pure happiness that came from your unusual companion.

"Christmas was never a very… happy holiday for me but, maybe this year will be better."

"I hope it is." You caught yourself answering back quietly, for no one to hear.

January 3, 1986

Winters could be pretty harsh on Hawkins. The break was over and it just so happened to be pouring rain on the first day back to school.

The skies were grey, heavy drops of water hitting the pavement as you turned the wheel into the parking lot. Of course, it was packed with cars, no one wanted to walk when it was raining.

You groaned as you pulled up in one of the farthest spots from school. Closing the zipper of your jacket, you grabbed your backpack and a small yellow umbrella you always had in your car.

The little thing didn't do all that much in keeping the rain from reaching you, with help from the wind, the only part of your body you managed to keep dry was your head. With one hand holding the umbrella and the other a strap of your bag, you took quick steps towards the school; walking forward with purpose when actually you should be paying attention to the puddles and many leaves the wind knocked down last night.

Water splashed around your boots, but before you could even get annoyed at that, your foot was slipping on brown leaves; the motion sent you falling back and you could only think of your backpack being submerged in the puddle.

It never happened though. You closed your eyes bracing for the impact, and instead felt two arms around your waist, your back hitting someone's chest instead.

"Woah hey, careful. That would've been a disaster."

You clutched your sorry excuse of an umbrella, slowly standing up and removing yourself from the embrace that caught you. His voice reverberated through your body in the form of a shiver, making your heart pump blood faster. The tight grip you had on the umbrella was mimicked from the one in your lungs. You couldn't breathe, because you knew that voice.

Turning around, you met the chocolate brown eyes you had been secretly wanting to see this up close for months now.

Eddie looked down at you with the ghost of a smile, he wore a black hoodie to protect himself from the rain; still, some droplets of water clung to his hair and eyelashes, shining.

And your silence must have sent him the wrong message because he stuffed his hands in the hoodie's pocket and took a few steps away from you.

He cleared his throat, eyes moving to look at something over your shoulder. "Yeah, sorry. I just didn't want you to fall, didn't mean to overstep or anything."

You internally kicked yourself multiple times for being a weirdo. "No, you didn't overstep, at all. uh- thank you." You breathed, managing a reassuring smile. "Really, you saved me from a massive embarrassment and from being cold all day."

You quickly maneuvered your umbrella to cover both of you, moving to stand beside Eddie. "Come on, let's get out of this rain."

Eddie's cheeks flushed pink at the unusual kindness. He walked side by side with you, bodies close under the yellow umbrella. Butterflies fluttered inside his stomach because he finally talked to the girl who held his heart's affection.

Once inside the school, Eddie headed to his art class whilst you walked to your science one. He waved a shy goodbye at you and that was it.

Even if you tried, you couldn't possibly concentrate on what the teacher was saying or the notes you were supposed to be taking. Eddie Munson was the lonely stranger who had been keeping you company over the last year. Seeing the clear picture now, you were frustrated for not putting two and two together sooner.

You were fidgeting with the pencil on your hands, biting your tongue until you almost tasted blood because now the person who spoke over the static of the walkie was suddenly so real, so tangible. And if anything, knowing it was Eddie only made your heart swell harder for him.

January 23, 1986

Friday nights were your nights, the time you always gave yourself to simply relax. You'd pick up a movie at Family Video, taking the opportunity to hang out with Robin and Steve at their new place of work for a while; then get home and change into your most comfortable pajamas, make some popcorn, and lunge on the couch. Just as you are now.

You lazily stroked your dog's fur, who was passed out beside you. The lights were off and the only thing illuminating your face where the images on the TV.

Last time you checked it was around 8 PM, but after a long week, your eyes slowly started to drop with tiredness. That is until the walkie-talkie inside your backpack started buzzing with the familiar static, and you were suddenly more awake than ever.

You scrambled to grab it, quickly raising the antenna before throwing yourself onto the couch again. You lowered the volume of the TV, waiting.

You heard a pained grunt first and then;

"Jesus man, they got me good today. Ugh shit- I feel like a truck ran me over or something."

Concern etched itself into your face instantly, you grabbed your blanket closer to yourself, praying for some kind of elaboration from Eddie.

Eddie. It still felt so foreign to have a name for the lonely voice now.

"I should- I should be used to it by now but… I just want it to stop. Whatever man, I'll just strap a band-aid to it and sleep it off."

"No, no, no. Don't do that." You mumbled to yourself. You ran a hand through your hair, stomach twisting in anxiousness. Running over every possible scenario in your head, even with most of them Eddie hating you in the end, you decided that you wouldn't leave him alone today.

You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for what you were about to do, crossing your fingers for it to not be a mistake.

You pushed the button on the walkie. "You should clean the cut first."

Silence, there was silence for a long time. His voice was smaller when he spoke again, hesitant.

"I- I'm sorry I thought this was a dead channel… No one ever answered, I'm- I didn't mean to.."

"It's okay," you closed your eyes, interrupting him. "It was a dead channel, I think; I just stumbled upon it a while ago — not long, promise — and I heard you, and, I don't know it felt like you could use some company I guess. But then, I- I never really said anything."

You bit your lip, nerves making you tap your knee incessantly. "I sort of just, hung around in case you… I wasn't listening like a creep or something just- I'll switch channels in a minute okay? I just need to know, are you hurt?"

You let go of the button and groaned audibly, facepalming because of your own words.

"A little, yeah."

His quiet voice was a relief, part of you expected him to leave you hanging. You leaned back on your couch. "Okay, uh listen, if it's a cut, you need to clean it up, if you don't have antiseptics just use water. And if it's just a small one, it's best to leave it open, so it can heal on its own."

"You have a lot of experience with this stuff?"

You smiled. "Yeah, you could say that."

Eddie was surprisingly chill about your whole predicament. You walked him through patching himself up. From what he told you it wasn't that bad, just a few punches here and there that would leave him sore for a few days. It still made you feel sick to your stomach though.

Talking with him was easy, the way his voice addressed you made you smile. About an hour had passed when you deemed he was taken care of.

"Hey, I'm sorry for never telling you there was someone else on this channel. It was a shitty move, I just never managed the courage to speak up I guess." You told him before ending the call. "But I promise I'll never switch to it again."

You held the walkie between both your hands, the movie on your TV had long since been over.

"It's okay. Anyone could've found this random frequency, I'm glad it was you. I uh- usually change them, from time to time. But this one was always silent, so I figured I'd stay."

Picking at a loose strand from your blanket, you pressed the button again. "I'm sorry." You mumbled again. "It was never my intention to intrude. Just so you know, I wasn't always listening, to you, I mean… Sometimes it happened but, like I said I thought that maybe one day you might need someone to talk to or something."

Eddie must have heard the worry in your tone because his next words calmed you;

"You don't need to apologize, it's okay. To be honest I don't know why I started doing… this. I guess I just wanted to pretend like someone cared to listen to my whining. It feels- it feels nice to hear a voice answering back for a change. You don't need to leave."

And so you stayed.

______

The routine that you both created was different, to say the least. You didn't realize how much you were dreading having to leave his channel on the walkie until he said you could stay and you felt the weight being lifted from your shoulders.

Now, you were actually talking to each other. You felt like a thirteen-year-old with her first crush each time you heard Eddie's shy voice calling out for you over the walkie-talkie. He was always hesitant, always a bit too quiet in the beginning. But he seemed to enjoy the company just as much as you did.

You saw him at school every day, sharing nothing more than a few 'good mornings' here and there. Maybe he knew it was you who he talked to on the supposedly dead channel. Maybe he suspected it could be you, just like you did in the beginning. Either way, he never asked.

And you didn't either. It was a silent mutual understanding that names didn't need to be exchanged. You knew he felt more comfortable this way, after all, he was sharing his heart out with what he thought was no one before you spoke up.

You let Eddie set the pace, this was his safe space. When he felt ready to talk in person or ask about you, you'd be there.

February 4, 1986

"Come on guys it's no fun if you just stay sitting there," Max complained, before dropping her skate to the ground and making her way to the ramps.

You and Steve sat on a blanket under a big willow tree, one of the few shadows surrounding the skate park. The day was sunny and the place was filled with teens.

"Alright, I think I'll go then." Steve got up, stretching his limbs and picking up the rollerblades. "You coming?" He turned to you.

"Yeah, I'll be there in a minute." You smiled at him. He shot you a smile back before making his way to the cement slopes in the park.

You closed your eyes, breathing in the fresh air of the trees around you.

"Hey, um, you- you there?"

Hearing the sizzled voice coming from the walkie near your backpack, you stretched an arm to grab it; pulling the antenna up and pressing the button. "Hi, yeah, I'm here."

"Cool, is this like, a good time, am I interrupting something?"

You smiled with Eddie's voice, your eyes following Steve's wobbly movements on his rollerblades. You laughed when Max had to rush to him so he wouldn't fall.

"No, it's perfect," You told Eddie.

That was the day you held your first normal conversation with him. He had called just for that, to talk; and your heart just about melted. You told him where you were, told him how a friend of yours was kinda bad at skating and the younger one was a pro. And Eddie told you about going to lunch with his uncle, how the man sometimes was the dad he never had.

March 12, 1986

"And then he just ran over the living room, dragging mud everywhere. God, I was so mad." You giggled, laying down on your bed and holding the walkie over the pillow next to yours.

A soft static came and Eddie's voice followed. You heard his laugh first, making your smile widen.

"I can imagine the mess. But it's so cool that you have a dog, man. I've always wanted a cat, or a dog too."

You turned around, eyes fixed on the pillow beside you, a tiny part of you hoped to see Eddie staring back at you. Outside your window, you caught a glimpse of the evening sun, orange and pink rays announcing its departure for the day. "Yeah, he's good company. Makes me laugh even if I get mad first."

Silence followed after. You closed your eyes, conjuring up an image of Eddie raking his mind over what to say next. It was cheesy. You didn't care.

"You know, I- I've been learning a new song, I play guitar, and I've been learning this new song. It's pretty sick, it's not perfect yet but… Do you- do you wanna hear it?"

You pushed yourself up on your elbows, breathing out a chuckle. Your heartbeat was drumming against your ribcage, happy that he was slowly becoming comfortable enough to share more things with you. "I would love to."

"Okay, here goes…"

You could hear the smile on his words, and as he started strumming the cords on his guitar, you decided that you loved hearing him play.

March 22, 1986

You'd never wanted this to be the way for you to see him again.

After calling a bunch of people and searching up every Rick in town just to find Eddie, then finally getting a hold of him in a secluded house at Lover's Lake and sort of filling him in about what was potentially happening; your friends were now deciding how to continue.

"Are we just gonna leave him here?"

"I mean it's not like we can walk around town with him."

"Then we can, I don't know, stop at a market by morning and bring him some food."

Dustin, Steve, and Robin talked amongst themselves, their faces illuminated by flashlights and the moonlight seeping through the shack's windows. You were leaning against the iron wall in the far corner, gaze trained on the swaying boat but not really focused.

To put it lightly, things went to shit. The upside-down was showing its claws again, but your main concern is that Eddie was being accused of murder.

Slowly, your gaze found him, and the mere sight tore your heart into two. He was slumped down in the opposite corner of the small shack, hugging his knees to his chest and shaking violently; his cheeks had tear tracks on them, no doubt his mind was reliving what he went through.

You wanted to go to him. Hug him close and tell him everything would be okay. But things weren't so simple. Until now, you still hadn't spoken to him in person again. You didn't know where boundaries started or ended.

"Okay, it's settled then." Steve decided. "Hey man, we're gonna bring you something to eat by morning yeah? Until then just… Try and get some rest." He addressed Eddie, who could only look at him.

One by one, your friends exited the fishing shack, walking out into the night, your gaze switched between the door and Eddie's small figure against the wall. You took slow steps to the door but stopped by the threshold.

"Steve," you called for your friend, hand resting on the doorway, "I think I'm gonna stay too, it's not good for him to be alone."

Steve walked back to you with a frown, his sneakers crushing the leaves underneath. "Are you sure?"

You nodded, reaching out a hand to squeeze his. "Yeah it's alright, I don't want him alone."

The look in your eyes didn't leave much room to argue. Steve left with a reassuring smile and the promise of food by morning.

As the car sped off in the distance, you closed the door behind you and turned to Eddie. He hadn't moved, his eyes were clouded with dread.

You took careful steps towards him, wincing at how the old wooden floor screeched beneath your feet. You moved to sit down in front of him, leaning your back on some wooden crates.

"You didn't have to stay." Eddie forced out, with a quiet tone that broke in the middle. His gentle brown eyes were glistening under the fading moonlight.

Gulping down a lump in your throat, you managed a smile. "I wanted to."

Eddie's gaze drifted from yours, the curl on his lips was bittersweet. "It's you, isn't it? Who- who I've been talking to."

You could hear your own heartbeat. "Yeah." You breathed out.

Eddie bounced once in his seat, leaning forward with a real smile. "I knew it!"

His excitement made you chuckle. You thought about how this would happen, you never imagined it this way though. Yet somehow, sitting with him in an old fishing shack in the dead of night while hiding from authorities, felt weirdly right.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, I just didn't want to…" You trailed off.

"Mess it up?" Eddie finished for you and you nodded.

He picked at a loose thread on the rip of his jeans. "Yeah, me neither. I mean, I had a feeling, that it was you, I thought your voice was familiar but… I never had the balls to ask."

Eddie looked up at you then, pupils blown as he took you in. You, the person who became his safe space. The one who could take his breath away with just a simple 'hello'.

Since the first time you shot him a dazzling smile at school his heart had been entranced with you. People rarely spared him the time of day, yet you graced him with a genuine smile every day. And Eddie wholeheartedly meant it the day he said he was glad it was you who found his channel on the walkie.

Back then he didn't know how much he was hurting, aching for someone that would care about him, about listening to him. And that day, when your voice came through the once dead channel, his lungs took a deep breath of fresh air after weeks, months of drowning in murky waters, alone.

Eddie counted the minutes to your conversations each day, it was the best part of his day, the one he looked forward to the most. Talking with you was easy, he became addicted fast, and fell even faster.

You decided that it wouldn't be a problem for you both to sleep inside Rick's house, it's not like anyone would come looking, and sleeping on hard wood or inside a boat was less than ideal.

The house was a mess inside, looking like it had been abandoned for some time. Dust covered the surfaces, most things being out of place and haphazardly thrown around. You searched around for rooms with Eddie close behind you.

There were two bedrooms, you stood in the hallway between both doors. "I can take this one and you take the other?" You pointed to one of the rooms.

Eddie nodded hesitantly, he was fidgeting with his rings, uneasy. You could tell something was bothering him, and you had a feeling about what it was. "Or, we could just take the same room."

"Yeah," Eddie let out a relieved sigh instantly, "please." He was dreading the feeling of being alone. Even if you were in the other room, it was too far.

You both removed shoes and unnecessary layers of clothing, laying down on the bed with a reasonable distance between you. The bed smelled… old, like it hasn't been used in some time, but it looked clean.

Eddie was as stiff as a rock beside you, even not touching him you could feel it. You turned to him, adjusting the covers over you. "Try to relax Eddie, you need to rest."

He breathed out, lower lip wobbling with the motion before he turned to you as well. Eddie clutched the covers closer to his chest, a cheap attempt at seeking some kind of comfort. "You know I didn't do it, right?" He tentatively raised his gaze to yours after he spoke, barely being able to make out your face in the darkness of the room.

You frowned, for a split second wondering what he was talking about until the worry in his voice caught up to you. "Of course I do. Eddie, I- I know you, and I know you would never hurt anyone. It's just not who you are. You're good." In a bold move, you reached out and took his hand in yours, squeezing and running your thumb over his knuckles.

Eddie felt his whole body filling with goosebumps at your touch, air getting stuck on his throat as he savored the feeling. He scooted closer to you, only a little, and didn't let go of your hand through the whole night.

March 24, 1986

After Max figured out she was most likely next on Vecna's list, you had to leave Eddie's side to help your friends.

Steve's car was waiting on the side of the road for you to get in, a breeze was flowing through the grey sky, rustling green and brown leaves.

You put on your jacket and prepared to leave Eddie's hiding place, walking to the front door of the neglected house, with Eddie right behind you. You turned to him before you walked outside. "Are you sure you'll be alright on your own?"

Eddie stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around the house. "Yeah, I don't think anyone will come looking here. Plus, your friends need you."

"You're my friend too." You told him quietly, tilting your head as your eyes remained on him.

Gentle brown eyes found yours, Eddie pursed his lips before taking half a step towards you. He was about to reach out for you but hesitated, clearing his throat awkwardly before lifting a hand to the back of his neck and extending the other for you to shake.

His attempt at pretending he wasn't about to give you a hug made you giggle. You closed the gap between you with a smile, pulling Eddie to you and holding on tightly.

His arms went instantly around your waist and he lowered his head against your shoulder. "Be safe, yeah?"

After being separated from Eddie; Nancy, Robin and you took a trip to Pennhurst, managing to speak with Victor Creel just in time to save Max's life.

March 25, 1986

Between saving Max and finding Victor's abandoned house, only now do you and your friends have time to check up on Eddie.

Your knee was bouncing incessantly the whole car ride there, your stomach was twisting with a weird bad feeling like something wasn't right. And sure enough, when you finally arrived at Rick's old house, it was surrounded by cops, nosy civilians, and the town's reporters. Yellow tapes blocked the access to the area and you just about felt your heart dropping to your ass at the sight; surely going a few shades paler at the thought of anyone finding Eddie.

Luckily, he seemed to have gotten away. Your fists balled in anger when you heard the chief of police making Eddie's name public as the prime suspect of the damned murders.

"Dustin? Can you hear me? Y/N?"

You had never been so relieved to hear Eddie's voice through the familiar crackle and static of the walkie-talkie. Before Dustin could even think of answering, you were already snatching the walkie from his backpack and taking a few steps away from the crowd to answer.

"Eddie? Thank god, you almost gave me a heart attack, are you okay?"

From the other end of the frequency, crouching under a massive rock in the middle of the woods, Eddie dropped his forehead against the walkie held between his shaky hands; a single tear escaping his eye.

"Not really, sweetheart. But shit, it's so good to hear your voice through this thing again, you have no idea."

You smiled, tension leaving your body in waves for the very same reason. "Where are you? I'll come find you."

"Skull rock, you know it?"

"I know where it is," Steve told you, all of you already making a beeline for the car.

The woods you were walking through to find Skull rock were dense, everywhere you looked sort of seemed to be the same place and you could only pray that Steve and Dustin knew where they were headed.

All you could think about was finding Eddie, making sure he was okay, and then never leaving his side again. Leaves and branches crushed beneath your sneakers, Robin and Nancy spoke softly behind you, their voices mixing with the birds singing around the forest. Despite the situation, you found yourself smiling because of the unlikely bond you had formed with the long-haired boy.

Steve squeezed his way past dense bushes with a huge grin, revealing the giant rock. "There she is Henderson, Skull rock. In your face man." He said happily, apparently winning whatever discussion he'd been having with Dustin.

"Doesn't make sense," Dustin said beside you, making you turn your head to him with a soft frown.

"Yeah, even with it staring you right in the face, you can't admit it. You just can't admit that you're wrong, you little butthead." Steve shrugged, lightly mocking the teen.

A loud thud came from behind you, then. Making you jump on the spot and quickly whip your head around.

"I concur, you Dustin Henderson, are a total butthead." Eddie took a deep breath in, hands resting on his hips.

Your lips turned up with a relieved smile, you didn't waste a second before walking the remaining steps towards him. You pulled Eddie to you with a stronger grip than before, closing your eyes to just feel him, there and safe.

"I was so worried, thought they got you." You mumbled against him.

Eddie held you back with the same intensity, one hand running up your spine and to your shoulder blades. "Yeah me too, sweetheart." He squeezed a little tighter, basking in the feeling of comfort only you can give him.

______

You could safely say that being in the upside-down was not on your bucket list. Yet here you were, swinging oars at cursed bats that decided to feast on Steve's torso. The sight was nightmarish, it was your Hawkins, only much darker, with a never-ending red storm in the sky, dust particles that made it hard to breathe, and gross vines crawling everywhere.

And only after — sort of — winning the fight against the bats and losing the creatures with help of the forest; that you finally felt the nagging pain in your leg.

You were walking beside Eddie, who was still freaked out. Steve, Nancy, and Robin just a step ahead amidst the looming trees. It started with just a distant pain that had you limping, then you felt wetness running down your ankle and soon enough you were light-headed, some trees doubling themselves in your vision.

You didn't register you were falling until Eddie was scrambling to catch you.

"Y/N? Shit, don't do this to me. What happened?" He was already on edge and right now it'd be safe to say he was on the verge of panic. He had both arms under yours, maneuvering you to sit on the ground with your back against his chest.

His voice alerted the others, who came running back.

Nancy crouched in front of you, concern evident on her face as she checked for injuries. "I think she was bitten on her leg."

She lifted your jeans slowly, causing you to groan with the sharp pain shooting up and down your leg. You could feel Eddie squeezing your hand, his chin coming down to rest on your shoulder as you heard his soft voice telling you you'd be okay.

Using Eddie's bandana, Nancy managed a tourniquet around your leg. The bleeding ceased to a minimum, and you allowed yourselves at least five minutes to breathe given that you and Steve had been hurt pretty badly.

Eddie rested his back against a nearby tree, and even if you asked, you didn't think he'd let you go. So you remained in his arms, comfortably resting back onto his warm chest.

He had his arms wound around your abdomen, grip never wavering. You brought a hand over his, brushing over his knuckles.

You felt him tense momentarily behind you, then he started lazily playing with your fingers. "Getting back at me for making you worry earlier?"

A chuckle escaped you, leaning your head back on his shoulder. "Something like that, yeah."

Several heartbeats passed before you felt Eddie turning his head, his lips grazed your hairline. "I can't lose you, man. I just- can't."

His voice came out quiet and broken, if you weren't literally feeling his breath against your ear, you wouldn't have heard. Goosebumps filled your body, you grasped his hand in yours.

"You won't." You promised.

March 26, 1986

It was almost bittersweet, the momentary peacefulness of the green fields, when you knew what you would be heading into soon. The place was gorgeous, a hidden treasure maybe. The blue of the sky contrasts with the endless grass plains, with numerous trees surrounding the clearing.

You sat by the trailer Eddie and Steve stole, preparing molotovs with Robin. You opened one of the bottles, pushed the cloth inside, and heard a familiar laugh in the distance; looking up, you saw Eddie wrestling with Dustin, both boys running around on the green field with smiles on their faces.

"How's your leg?"

Robin's voice from beside you made you aware of your own smile. You tried to hide it, focusing back on your task, but not before stealing a last glance towards Eddie. "It's better. Bothering a little but nothing I can't handle."

When Robin didn't answer, you glanced up to meet her eyes. She had a shit-eating grin on her face, making you raise an unimpressed eyebrow.

"You two are adorable, y'know?" Robin mused, smile persistent as she put another finished molotov to the side.

"We're friends, Robin." You grumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up.

"Oh yeah, you totally are."

From far away, Eddie swung his newly made shield around, with an excited bounce on his feet. "Hit me, Henderson."

Dustin jabbed the makeshift spear into Eddie's shield, both of them smiling when both weapons held up well.

Twirling the spear in his hands, Dustin rolled his eyes when he noticed Eddie sneaking a glance towards the stolen trailer for the thousandth time. "When were you going to tell me about her anyway?"

Eddie's head snapped towards Dustin, and he straightened in his stance, both hands holding the shield to his chest. "What are you talking about, man?"

Dustin spread his arms and pointedly raised his eyebrows as if to say 'seriously?'; "you and Y/N obviously, when did that happen and why am I always the last one to know?"

"There's nothing to know and nothing to tell, alright? We're just friends." Eddie told him nervously, pushing away strands of hair that the wind had brought to his eyes. "She deserves much better anyway." He grumbled to himself.

The incredulous look on Dustin's face would have been comical if he hadn't all but shouted his next words; "spare me, dude, everyone can see it, you like each-"

"Jesus christ, shut it Henderson." Eddie sprinted towards him, shield pointed at the boy who had no other option than to stop talking and defend himself.

______

The moment you crossed the portal back to your Hawkins, and Eddie hesitated, you could swear you felt your heart freezing in your chest. Before he even cut the rope, you were already begging him not to do it.

The makeshift rope fell on your hands and he might as well have plunged the spear right into your heart. Eddie was looking up at you from the upside-down and your throat was already closing with dread, you were screaming at him, words you couldn't even remember. When he walked away from the portal with the promise to come back, for the first time, you didn't believe him.

Everything had happened in a haze, you told Dustin to not dare move as you managed a way up and back through the portal. The wounds on your leg were stinging with each of your movements, more so as you hit the ground on the cursed side of Hawkins.

Your pain hadn't been a concern then, the sole thing on your mind was to find Eddie. You had thrown open the trailer door and ran out into the upside-down world as fast as your legs could carry you, not stopping once, sneakers thudding against the grey ground.

When you saw the swarm of bats circling only one spot, in a hurricane-like manner, hundreds of them going from the ground and up to the sky; you knew Eddie was there, in the eye of the storm. With no regard for your own safety, air stuck in your lungs in a mix of fear and adrenaline, you ran to him.

You could remember the particles in the atmosphere clouding your throat, the blood flowing down your leg.

You had found him there then, tears collecting on the bottom lid of your eyes. You didn't stop though. Eddie was on the ground, with the tail of one of the bats around his neck and a few others trying to claw at his abdomen.

What lasted about five seconds felt like an eternity. You had spotted Eddie's spear, grasping it tightly in your hands and slicing the bat's tail clean off its body, aiming for the ones attacking Eddie next.

When Eddie stumbled up beside you, wobbly on his feet but still standing, shield in his hands; you had already felt a faint relief.

Not even a minute after, all the bats surrounding you were falling from the sky as some sick resemblance of rain. Dead. You thanked whoever did it. Dropping down to your knees — to catch the first real huff of breath ever since the rope had fallen heavily in your hands — you looked Eddie over, who had also been breathing heavily beside you. He was hurt, yes; a few bites and scratches here and there, but he was okay. No air seemed to be enough for you though, almost like the beginnings of a panic attack that you tried to chase away.

Eddie had extended a hand to you, you had seen the worry in his eyes that no doubt were mimicking yours.

And that had been the last look you gave him. You had pushed his hand away weakly, standing up on your own, with legs that almost didn't have enough strength to carry you. Your chest was going up and down with difficulty. You had dropped the spear to the ground with a thud, slowly limping back to the portal on the trailer. Eddie followed, you didn't look at him.

Now — after Steve, Nancy and Robin had found their way back through the portal as well, and you all but collapsed into Steve's arms because your body had simply given up — you sat on the couch at the back of the stolen trailer. Steve was driving, telling everyone all about the fight with Vecna, Nancy sat on the passenger's seat and Robin sat with Dustin near the front, along with Max, Lucas, and Erica after you picked them up.

And Eddie, given his home still sported a portal — a slowly retreating one, but it was still there — sat beside you. You put a distance between you both though, pressing yourself against the end of the couch and looking out the window.

You could feel the way his eyes hardly left you, most likely wondering why you were so quiet. Thing is, you couldn't bring yourself to look at Eddie, or talk to him. Anger was bubbling inside you because of what he did, because of how reckless his actions were. You knew the raw fear was lingering too, however.

"Hey guys, where should I drop you off?" Steve looked at you through the rearview mirror.

"I'll go to uh-" Eddie started, but you spoke over him.

"My house, he's coming with me."

"Yeah that- that's exactly what I was going to say." Eddie agreed quickly, his hands incessantly fidgeting with the hem of his green vest.

Your house arrived quickly, you said goodbye to your friends with a tight hug to each of them, making them promise to take care of themselves whilst they made you do the same.

The night was cold as you slowly limped your way up the stone path that lead to your front door. The lights on the house were turned off, you weren't surprised. It was late, you didn't know how late but the whole town seemed to be asleep already, unaware of the evil that had once again been defeated just minutes ago.

Eddie walked close behind you, one hand lingering against his stomach as the other stayed ready to catch you if you stumbled.

You hadn't bothered to lock your front door and for once you were happy about it, your guard dog came running to greet you, making a beeline for the stranger behind you.

"Hello to you too." You grumbled to your dog and turned on the lights in the living room.

"Oh, it's your dog, hey dude." Despite his wounds, Eddie was happy to crouch down and shower your dog with pats. Huge smile on his face as he bit his lower lip, fingers disappearing amongst the fur.

From your place in the hallway, you stole a glance at them. Instantly, tears were prickling at the back of your eyes.

Shaking your head, you walked to your bathroom. Turning on the lights, you winced at how the white tiles reflected the brightness. Bracing yourself on the sink counter, you met your own eyes in the mirror. To say you look awful would be a massive understatement. You had a rather big cut on your cheek that you didn't even know was there before now, droplets of blood and dust covered a good part of your skin, your hair all over the place, and not even counting how your whole body was complaining in pain.

You definitely needed a vacation.

Eddie slowly appeared behind you, brown eyes finally being able to find yours through the mirror. You saw how his hand reached out for you, and how he pulled it back before he could touch you.

"Are you- are you okay?"

And his voice was so gentle, so soft that you wanted to grab him and not let go, ever. You closed your eyes, lowering your head with a sigh and gripping the edge of the sink until your knuckles turned white.

Eddie shuffled, now standing beside you. He was confused, worried. His body was screaming at him to just hold you, but now, he was afraid of overstepping. "Are we just… not gonna talk?"

"Just sit down." You told him, voice steady.

He nodded, gulping down his feelings as he sat on the edge of the tub and you grabbed the first aid kit from under the sink.

You opened the small box, rummaging through mainly for antiseptics and bandages. You silently motioned for him to take off his shirt.

Eddie tried to do it on his own, but when the movement of raising up his arms elicited more than one pained grunt from him, you stepped in, carefully lifting his shirt above his head.

Seeing the gashes on his skin got your breath stuck in a massive lump in your throat. It wasn't too bad, but there was still blood and he was still hurt. In the back of your mind, you thought about the first time you answered him on the walkie.

"We can count this as progress right?" Eddie tried, a tender smile gracing his lips, his eyes looking up at you with blown pupils. "Last time you were giving me instructions, now you get to do it yourself." Apparently, he remembered it too.

His words made the tiniest smile come to you, which made his only get bigger.

You treated Eddie's wounds with the utmost care. Cleaning them up the best you could and closing the bigger gaps with white bandages that would soon be painted a slight red.

You didn't notice the unsteadiness of your hands, how they shook over his wounds; or the permanent frown on your eyebrows, or the lone tear that escaped your eye and slid down your cheek when Eddie hissed when you touched a particularly sensitive spot on his skin.

Eddie noticed.

Leaving the small cut on his jaw for last, you crouched in front of him, biting the inside of your cheek and raising a hand to clean his face.

Eddie's gaze was heavy, dark eyes fixated on you. You could see the turmoil going on inside his head.

He winced slightly when the wet cloth made contact with his skin, you mumbled an apology. Being so concentrated on what you were doing, you jumped a little when you felt his fingers gently grazing your cheek, over the dried tear track.

A shaky exhale passed through your nose, you met his eyes and saw they were glistening under the bathroom lights; swimming in the feelings he kept guarded inside his chest.

"Talk to me sweetheart, what's wrong?" Eddie asked tentatively, dry lips hanging open, waiting for an answer that never came. "Please." He tried again, quieter.

As much as you might want to, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. You let your hand fall to your lap, avoiding his eyes, you were basically sitting on the floor now.

Eddie pushed a stray hair behind your ear, his eyes roamed your face for a minute and then he was standing up and left the bathroom.

You frowned, but didn't follow after him. You heard as he walked back, your back was still turned to the door and you focused on the sound of his movements.

Eddie sat down against the wall to your right, hissing sharply at the cold tiles, his knees tucked close to his chest. Wordlessly, he reached out and gently dropped the walkie-talkie on your lap, before hugging his knees with one hand, the other holding onto his own walkie.

The grey device on your hands was nothing but a blur through your tears.

You heard the familiar crackle and static. You almost broke down then and there.

"I know you don't wanna talk right now, at least not with me. I just hope you know that I'm here, and I'm- I'm gonna be here whenever you feel ready."

You heard his voice, both from the walkie and from right beside you.

"And… I also hope you know that you're like, the most important person in my life, I think you don't even know how much you've helped me. You're the one thing that takes my mind off of all the bullshit this town has thrown at me… Shit, you make me happy, and maybe you're much more than anything I'd ever deserve; but I'm here for you too, so if you could just- just give me a sign that you're okay, I'll give you peace, or space, or whatever you need. I just need to know if you're okay, please."

Eddie finished, voice growing quieter by the end. He let go of the button on his walkie, making the device sizzle with static.

The tears in your eyes were on the brink of spilling over, chest impossibly tighter. You chanced a glance to the side, to him.

Some tears clung to Eddie's eyelashes, and a few others made their way down, collecting on the end of his chin or stopping at the corner of his lips. His eyes were pleading, burning a hole through your soul.

Running your tongue over your lips, you carefully raised the walkie to your lips. You pressed the button, hesitating only a split second.

"I'm okay, as… okay as one can be after that, but…" You started slowly, each word following a beat of your heart. "Damn it, Eddie, I thought I lost you."

Throwing away the walkie-talkie, you turned your body to him. "Do you have any idea, of the panic I felt when you cut that damn rope? What were you even thinking?"

Eddie put down his own walkie, opening his mouth to answer. You didn't let him;

"It was so- reckless." You uttered out shakily, running a hand through your hair, brows scrunched in anger. "I mean you- you could have fucking died for those damn things if I hadn't gotten there in time, and for what? A little extra time?"

You didn't register you were crying, you didn't register the sobs; and when Eddie reached a hand out for you, you slapped it away. "You don't get to tell me to be careful, or- or say that you can't lose me when you do stuff like that. This goes both ways for fucks sake." Your tone was louder, wobbly, mixed with sobs and tears as you groaned in frustration and hastily wiped your cheeks.

You only noticed that Eddie had successfully managed to grab you when you were pressed against his warm chest. Your head tucked against his neck as both his arms closed around you tightly. Both your legs became a mess of tangled limbs, Eddie lowered his lips to the crown of your head, squeezing you to him and mumbling countless "I'm sorry" and "I'm here" and "it's okay".

His skin was warm under your hands. Your ear, resting just above his heart, allowed you to hear the constant thudding; the reassuring sound slowly but surely calming your trembling body and ragged breathing.

"I never wanted to hurt you. Promise." Eddie spoke against your skin, fingers tracing lazy patterns over your body. "I- when I saw the bats, breaking through the door, all I cared about was keeping you safe. I knew I had to draw them away from you and Dustin. Maybe it was selfish but, I couldn't risk them getting through that thing to reach you."

Shaking your head, you pulled away only enough to look at him. Finally being able to take him in, he was just as much of a mess as you were. The sight made you chuckle.

Eddie felt his heart bursting with warmth at the sound of your laugh, a small smile coming to him as well.

You reached up, thumb carefully tracing the outline of his lower lip, engraving the image of him to your heart forever. He leaned towards your touch. You almost kissed him.

"Just, please promise me you won't do anything this reckless ever again."

Eddie hummed, his hands around your waist tentatively pulling you towards him. "For you, I'd do it again in a heartbeat." His words held a playful tone, accompanied by a cheeky grin. They also held the truth.

"And I'd go after you in a heartbeat." You raised an eyebrow at him, your hand burying in his hair.

"Good, then we got each other's backs on our reckless decisions," Eddie mumbled, his breath ghosting over your lips.

He glanced down to your lips with a silent question, a plea. You answered by closing the gap between you, both hands cradling the back of his head and pulling him to you desperately, urging for closeness.

Here, with your body flush to Eddie's, his lips mapping yours in a motion of love; you couldn't be happier for having stumbled upon him on that dead channel.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this story. It was one that took weeks of writing, rewriting, and editing, so feedback and reblogs are very much appreciated so I can keep bringing you these stories. <3

Eddie’s taglist: @alicefallsintotherabbithole @boooil @science--hoes @cherrypieyourface @tssf-imagines @daph-505 @astream-ofconsciousness @fentyreligion @fantasylovestoryme @justabeautiful-letdown @crazyrapunzel @yessica41 @dancing-hillary @bakugouswh0r3 @hehehehannahthings @jakebasement @zervopoulouu @forverdaydreamer-blog @fromthedt @oeuryale @mcueveryday @palah @witchbinchstories

@call-me-magpie @loveshineslikethesky @luvmybbies @tvserie-s-world @agirlsguidetolove @hallothankmas @ribyourtoplip @sweetpeapod @harringt8ns @forsaken-letters @hazydespair @fangirling-4-ever @electric-cabaret @ollyoxenfrees @linkpk88 @twinkofmydreams @paola-carter @masterlistmanic @xceafh

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson #strangerthingsedit #stranger things #eddie munson x you #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddiemunsonedit #joseph quinn #stranger things x reader #st #my story

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vanderilnde · 2 months

Text

a toxic ghoap wip i had in my drafts from months ago but will no longer be continuing. i just wanna dump it here lol

cw for misogyny, smut, (internalized) homophobia, hedonism, sacrilege, prostitution mention, ghost is an ass

pls heed all tags, this was a vent fic, and also bare in mind im never gonna finish this lmao

Johnny's world is asymmetrical.

His world. His beginning and his end. Humvees and Dauphin 2 helis and deployments around the globe. Undercover operations, saving women and children, the comforting carbon steel of a rifle in his hands.

It’s an unspoken stigma, but it’s there. Materialising as insults while his lads take the piss out of each other, and in the form of dishonourable discharges.

The stigma has always been there. It has no start and no finish, so Johnny can’t remember where it came from, but he knows it was there since primary, where boys would kick girls at the bends of their knees and yank on their pigtails, squatting to the floor to get a look-see up their chequered skirts and cackle, all while Johnny stood off to the side, overtly uncomfortable.

Mum’s complained. Teacher’s were involved. Dad’s simply said, “Boys will be boys,” and the situation was brushed under the carpet.

The stigma tailed Johnny into secondary school. His older cousin lent him a suit for formal, which prompted Johnny awkwardly standing on his doorstep with his date—a pretty lass named Rory—as his mam snapped a spate of photos.

Johnny’s disposition was a grave juxtaposition to Rory’s. She was all grins and giggles, cantered into Johnny’s arm, while he was inelastically poised with tight lips.

His mam wouldn’t stop pinching his supple cheeks, trying to shepherd a smile out of him. She gave up, throwing her hands in the air and wheedling them off the porch, tacking on an ornate, “Have fun, kiddos!” as they pooled into Johnny’s scrap metal car.

Johnny felt as if he was lacking something. As if his wings had been clipped by the world a little too soon. It’s always been like that. A piece of him plucked from his wracking ribs and stolen, ever since he was a little boy. So in a lapse of judgement, in order to prove himself, to shatter the bubbling stigma, Johnny sought out the most masculine thing to offset his failure: follow in the steps of his cousin, and enlist.

It was a rashly undertaken decision, but a decision he stuck with, because, for the first time in forever, Johnny’s old man clasped his shoulder in pride.

But stigma was an incessant little thing. Because even in military school, it followed him closely. As Johnny’s school brothers had Playboy rafts and pin-up girls folded into their pillow cases, he would blunder upon being asked, “Who’d ye shag?” by his mate.

In boot camp, he was a lowly private, whose hands would jade and cramp from cleaning rifles. They gave him blisters. And so his bunkmate—a nice lad from Glasgow with a crooked nose—would tend to his fingers during their lunch routine. Hidden somewhere in the corner, making jokes about their Drill Instructor. Callum, was his name. He’d swathe Johnny’s hands in gauze and garnish it with a lopsided smiley face. It always sucked, fell apart half way, but he did it anyway.

That’s when Johnny started blistering his hands on purpose.

Wedging his thumb in the dip of a garand and not pulling it out until it was swollen. Then he’d snivel, seeking Callum out in their barracks. There was a pull in Johnny’s stomach, half of an ebb that finished Callum’s flow. It would give him rashly undertaken ideas—such as fixing his hand in the lid of an armoury shell—for Callum to fix up. Johnny would find him among their other friends, beseeching with his cobalt eyes, holding out a hand.

In enlistment, his confusion ripened into a gravely miscalculated realisation. That it wasn't an affinity for men Johnny wanted to be—to attract ladies with his chest candy and the brandished title of military man—no, it reared its ugly head when Johnny finally became his own private. Grinning, at the time, clean-shaven and giddy as his mother snapped a spate of photos of him saluting in his new uniform, plaintively whining when she reached out to adjust his garrison cap because “It’s lopsided, pumpkin!” To which Johnny, under the searing gaze of his fellow privates, would clip, “‘Cos it’s meant to be like tha’, ma!”

Johnny didn’t know when it started. He just remembered realising how good Callum looked one day at the range—sweat sluicing down his pale neck, disappearing behind his lapels, ass filling out the space of his pants as he would squat to the ground and aim for the faraway target. Before he knew it, Johnny was seizing lights out. Using the time to sneak off to the bathrooms and cramp a fist around his leaking cock, beating his dick to the thought of him. Him, him, him.

Johnny’s sordid thoughts didn’t emulate what his granny had planned for him—to pass down her old wedding stack once he “Found the right lass,” to bring home to her; it wasn’t what the Orthodox spiels of sermons and hymns and praise on Sunday’s drilled into him; it wasn’t what his uncle was anticipating—“Got a girlfrien’ yet, Johnny-boy? Ah, why’re ye frowning! Soon enough, ye will.”

His fantasies rivalled those of his squadmates. Because on his first tour, a summer ten years ago in the chilly expanse of Northern Ireland was a woman that approached them. Denim skirt and a mulberry red halter top. Kitten heels, sunglasses. Shiny lipgloss. She tried to ply them by batting her eyes, offering her services. She was smart. Military men always paid. It’s the desperation that got to them most of the time, a tinge of worry, and a hint of entitlement. They took the bait. Rode her back to camp and took their turns with her.

When it was Johnny’s turn, he listlessly declined and hung his head. He said he had a lass waiting for him back home—Rory—that’s the first name that popped in his head. His secondary school girlfriend in which he sobbed on when he tried kissing her. Johnny said he had a bird, just like all his other lads, with pictures of their wives and girlfriends pinned to the massive cork board in the middle of their camp. But they had no problem indulging themselves.

They were shoving him around, calling him all sorts of names, bullying him into following them. And that’s when Johnny caved. A cacophony of hollers flared out around him as he ducked into the tent where the woman lay, thin bed sheets hiked up to her collarbones, her previous lipgloss smeared over her chin.

Johnny said, “Hi, how are you?” Because that’s what his mother taught him. She softly giggled.

Not at him, but with his overdue respect.

Johnny shucked off his uniform with trembling hands, mounting her with his dick flaccid and stomach flipping. He remembers ruminating, “Why don’t you like it? You should like it. Love it,” but his heart leapt to his throat and his navel twisted, heart seized as the head of his cock kept slipping around her messy opening, poking her thigh. His throat constricted, dry, then slackened. A muffled sob wracked through him. Barely concealed by the threshold of his thin lips. He pushed his tongue into the roof of his mouth and buried his face in the crook of her neck, collapsing into her bare chest, furiously wiping his tears into the inflatable mattress.

Then, the body beneath him quivered. Johnny hoisted himself up, a spiel of apologies curling off of his tongue, when he realised she was crying too. The same type as him—wrung out, jaded, tired. She blindly reached out for him and pulled him close. Not reaching for his dick nor biting sensual whispers into his ear. They held each other for a little while, coalescing as their cries muffled into each other’s skin. Then, she pushed him off. Slid off the mattress and snaked her into her clothes.

They both left the tent shaking. She was still sniffling. His lads cheered as she walked away and clapped him on the back.

That’s when Johnny realised there wasn't a place for him in his world. Johnny shrunk himself, half the light he used to be, pushing himself into a little box as his world around him clipped off his wings.

Now, Johnny’s world consists of something a little different.

Something sinewy and rough around the edges. Gruff, but tactical. Calm, akin to the placid sea, but could flip a switch and emulate its choppy waters if he wanted to, too. Big, striking, with eyes that could kill a sailor. A deep timbre mandated by Manchester. Wide-set shoulders but a willowy waist, hips that sway as he walks. A macabre mask and skeletal gloves—ones that have Johnny wrapped tightly around his fingers.

Johnny grew into himself between serving in the parachute regiment to selection for the SAS. He got rougher. Learned how to hide himself better. Perfectly fit himself within the Task Force, around men who would become his best friends and brothers. He’s otherwise your normal guy. Goes to the bar with the team when they’re able. Shooting darts with Gaz (“You’ve got a Marksman badge but can’t score more than two points? C’mon, mate…”); pool with Price; and drinks with Ghost.

Beer always sloshes over the lip of Ghost’s glass when they clink their drinks. It crashes up and over the Brit’s fingers, dripping down his hands, between his thick fingers. Johnny always resists the urge to lean in close and lick the wash of alcohol glistening Ghost’s knuckles.

But they’re just friends. Apparently. Because friends don’t fuck.

It started way down in Chicago’s heart, after another op. Gaz—ever the exploiter of his puppy eyes—managed to ply Price into stopping at a bar instead of heading straight back to base for paperwork. So they stopped at a little hole-in-the-wall, still rife with adrenaline, spreading out and all doing their own thing.

Johnny and Ghost were sat around a rickety table with wobbly legs. A spread of peanut shells around them and sticky rings of alcohol from their glasses glossing the surface. Ghost raised an arm to wipe his eyes, knocking over Johnny’s beer in the process. An expletive crossed the Brit’s tongue and he apologised, grasping a fistful of napkins and scrubbing it over Johnny’s soaked shirt.

It ebbed and flowed in long, rough strokes. Ghost’s hand gliding over Johnny’s legs, Ghost’s middle finger and thumb snapped around Johnny’s thigh, his grasp cutting into the sinews.

It wasn’t that different from suturing a teammate up after a mission. But with the unsaid admiration Johnny had for him, tempered by the hint of alcohol on the roof of his mouth and the hazel canopy of Ghost’s lashes, over his focused eyes, arousal quickly seized Johnny.

Ghost’s hand brushed over a tent on Johnny’s jeans. One that hadn’t been there before. He cut his next stroke from the root, pausing, and blinked up at his friend.

The Scotsman felt a wound up spring in his stomach. He turned away, smacking Ghost’s hand, and ran a hand through his black tuft of hair, slapping both sides of his shaved heads. He felt his lungs betray him—squeezing like dried fruit and refusing to expand—to yield to his sudden heavy breathing and quick succession of heartbeats.

Johnny shook his head. Sputtering. “Lad, y’know, sometimes we can’t control ‘em–”

The words died on his tongue when Ghost flattened hand against the bend of his knee. He was testing the waters.

Johnny looked back, gulping, and took the bait. He inched his knee closer, until it met with Ghost’s thick leg. It’s something he’s done so many times. When he was starved for friction but couldn’t make it overtly obvious—grazing Ghost’s hand passing him a flare; knocking his foot under the table during debrief (“Sorry, lad,”); applying extra gauze to a slice in his torso just to feel Ghost’s chest throb below his fingers a little more.

But this is different. Something Johnny’s chased for so long. A tangible ghost on his tongue for a flavour he’s longed for with just fantasies while he fucked his fist late into the night.

Ghost tightened his hold on Johnny’s thigh. “Sons of bitches, ain’t they?”

His voice was taut. As was the muscle between Johnny’s shoulders.

They exchanged a glance. Soundless, but not wordless. Then Ghost slunk his hand down and wrapped it around Johnny’s swelling cock.

The feeling of it—a sensation so foreign, so yearned for—penetrated Johnny’s core. It made him yelp and jerk his knee into the table, sending more beer spilling over the rim of his glass and onto his pants.

Ghost hummed, shook his head. “C’mon, Johnny, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” And he inclined his head towards the bathroom in the back.

Johnny blindly nodded, yielding to Ghost’s hold as he hoisted him from his seat. Ghost directed them through the sea of gyrating bodies and towards the toilets. They bursted inside, and the Brit pulled Johnny into the last stall. A seedy little thing, with graffiti and the ash of cigarette butts welded into its walls.

The succeeding acts were a blip in the streamline of Johnny’s memory. He remembers Ghost shucking his pants down, then settling himself behind him. He remembers Ghost’s gloveless hand reaching around and working over his drooling cock. He remembers a voice in his ear, “What the fuck are we doing,” and a bulbous cockhead poking his ass. He remembers the shrill rattle of the stall hinges as he withered against it, trembling under Ghost’s deft hands, the finger that swept over the slit of his cock and slipped down to fondle his balls.

Before white-hot pleasure seared his vision, Johnny remembers emptying his come into the crotch of his denims, shaking, as it dampened his pants and as Ghost commanded him to pull it back up.

They left the bar alongside each other, meeting everyone else on the pavement. Johnny’s lips were popped open and swollen. Peeling, from how his teeth had sunk into them. His eyes were glossy and his hair was tousled in the middle of his head. He had a wet patch on his jeans.

“Oh, you are pissed, mate,” Gaz exclaimed, “I– that’s pee?”

“Spilled some water,” Ghost lied to the other teammates, “had to sort him out.”

They made it back to base within hours, signing off to their quarters.

The next day, Johnny didn’t see him at all.

The day after that, too; Ghost didn’t even spare him a glance.

He tried reassuring himself. Ghost hadn’t talked about men before—not in this calibre—so Johnny told himself it’s because he was digesting what rashly happened in Chicago.

That was, until, he was paged one night. A command from Ghost to meet him in his quarters. The message was succinct: one sentence, leaving no lines to be read between. Johnny walked ambled to his room with his heart in his stomach and his blood rushing to his ears. Nudging the door open, Ghost was on the edge of his bed, legs parted, smarting denim-washed jeans and a black pullover. A simple, soft gauze balaclava.

His eyes slid upwards first. Then the rest of his head. Ghost pinned Johnny under his smouldering gaze, then beckoned him forward with the tilt of his head. No words were swapped. Ghost simply tugged Johnny forward, between his thick thighs, and bullied the Scotsman to his knees with a hand splayed over his half-shaved head.

Johnny’s eyes widened. He popped his lips open to speak—lips Ghost whispers his thumb over to seal shut, uprooting his words from its step. Ghost shook his head, undid his belt with a single hand, and shucked down his jeans. He palmed himself for a while, watching Johnny’s eyes sheen over, before pushing his boxer-briefs scarcely over his meaty thighs, pinching the head of his cock.

Ghost didn’t even bother pulling his balls out. Just his dick—long, thick, a comely vein running beneath it—better than anything Johnny’s ever wanted. Better than the images he’s fucked his fist to, memories of Ghost, freshly out of the shower after sparring, his thin towel outlining the barest hint of his dick.

Johnny reaches out, but Ghost swipes it back. He tuts and softly smacks his cock against Johnny’s ruddy cheek, watching as a string of his precum connects to Johnny’s face.

“How bad do ya wan’ it, Johnny?” Ghost had prompted, swiping his cockhead over the Scotsmans lips, then pulling it back whenever his jaw readily slacked.

“Real… real bad, Lt.” He breathed.

Ghost tapped his cheek again. “Open.”

And so Johnny did. Like it was second nature, like he’s been wanting for so long. Waiting for so fucking long.

Johnny’s lips popped open and closed around Ghost’s wet tip. He swirled his tongue around it, clumsy in his movements, teeth grazing Ghost’s skin.

He winced. “Easy…”

Johnny blinked in a rapid succession, nodding, sucking him in a little deeper, mindful of hollowing out his cheeks and relaxing his jaw. Ghost’s eye twitched, hands digging into his tuft, hanging his head back, softly bucking his hips up into Johnny’s mouth.

“Atta boy, Johnny, fuck– where the fuck’d you learn this, eh?”

Johnny replied with a gargled purl of precum and saliva coalescing in his mouth, gagging over the wide girth splitting his jaw open. Ghost laughed, his gloved hand settling on the scruff of Johnny’s neck, pulling him a little closer; sinking his cock a little deeper, rutting his pelvis into his squadmate's pliable mouth.

Ghost cums. Johnny laps it all up. And in an undertaken lapse of judgement, rises to his feet, puckering his frosted lips, ready to hike Ghost’s balaclava above his nose and share his taste with him. But Ghost set a hand to Johnny’s face, shaking his head. He tucked his softening cock back into his pants.

That was the first instance Johnny disregarded. One he ignored in favour of indulging himself in something he yearned after for years. He didn’t realise his grave digging began there—when he witlessly nodded in response.

And from there, it became a cycle. It was always on Ghost’s call. Never Johnny’s. When Ghost wanted his dick sucked; when Ghost wanted a wet and tight hole wrapped around his cock. Johnny knew better. He knew he was being shepherded into something bad, but he couldn’t help himself.

Trembling under Ghost, his whole world encompassed by the Brit’s towering stature, was all that mattered to him. Getting spread over a cock he’s wanted for so long, a long ways from the taboo fantasies that’s collected cobwebs in his thoughts for so long.

Johnny was less of a teammate, more of an outlet for Ghost to exhaust his frustrations into. Even then, it was a pill Ghost had trouble swallowing. As if he’ll acknowledge it, and a relationship will materialise. So he stays still—fucks Johnny like a dirty little secret then turns the other way.

Johnny tries talking to him. Tries telling him he struggled with the same thing. That he isn’t alone and that he belongs here. That there’s no shame in it.

Simon collapses Johnny’s pleads with a final, resolute bark. “I ain’t gay, mate. You’re a friend helping a friend.”

basically it ends with Simon shepherding Johnny into some hedonistic, one-sided relationship. Johnny just accepts it bc if Simon wont love him, he’ll do it by proxy, because hes all fucked out and desperate for him🖤🖤

#my writing style here is so old and gross and clunky #ghost/soap #ghostsoap #soap/ghost #soapghost #ghoap #simon riley x john mactavish #ghost x soap #ghoap writing

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

Note

Glad to see I am not the only one whose a sucker for Shark!Vox-

Elaborating on some of those ideas for a second, first of all the binder point. That goes for pretty much all his shark aspects, he hides them to the best of his ability because he doesn't think they fit his brand. So in the case of his tail and back fins, their probably constantly aching because he insists on keeping them tamped down. Prob also makes them more sensitive in general but I digress

I'd also imagine he has gills but they aren't on his neck their on his screen, like people assume their just vents for his system to cool off but in reality their gills. Just closed gills.

He swims with Vark to keep his skin healthy cuz he's almost completely dried on by the end of the day. Wearing that suit constantly does not help either, it already itches super bad you don't need to make it worse with that tight ass suit come on :(

Probably covered in scabs and scars because he scratches at himself so violently.

This on the more angsty/general side but hey, he's an insecure little guy (who probably has some identity problems to work through) it seems only natural that he'd try and hide the more "unsavory" aspects of himself.

I will also leave you off with this more goofy note, y’know how sharks go completely limp when you flip them over? Yeah...Vox has to sleep on his side cause if he lays on his back for too long he straight up can't move-

I mean less work for me, don't gotta break out the cuffs no more-

End chorus! Good night darling!

💿

I LITERALLY LOVE SHARK VOX SO MUCH.

The angsty part is so sad because like if this were canon, he would absolutely hide all of these features and try to forget about them for as long as possible.

Swimming with Vark thing gets me thinking, though. Because until he waterproofed his head, which probably he probably didn’t start out with, he’d just have to take really long baths I guess.

I mean, I feel like in the shark au, all of his features would be waterproofed and updated like that way faster because he’d be actively trying to figure out how to do that.

But i’m just thinking like… because wants he trusts you enough and lets his shark parts show in front of you, just like running your hands up and down the fin on his back. He’d literally snap at you to stop but like all of the bite leaves his voice because that would just be so relaxing. Same with his tail.

Anyways, GOOD MORNING TUMBLR ‼️

(p.s, cd anon i love you feel free to rant about shark vox whenever, it makes my day.)

#vox x reader #vox hazbin hotel #vox fluff #inbox open #bimbo rambling

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ctheathy · 3 months

Note

Hello, I hope you have a nice day! , I would like to request a headcanons of yandere nine x reader being kidnapped by doctor eggman

Yandere Nine w/ Darling who got kidnapped by Robotnik

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: You, my dear reader, are all out for the drama and I'm here for it~!

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Possessiveness • Nine is so traumatized omfg- • Eventual PTSD • Age regression • Overprotective behaviour • Poor mental state • Paranoia • Emotional dependency • Trust Issues • Insomnia • Violence

Pfft. If Nine wasn't already considered severely unhinged before, he most certainly will be right now. Oh how much terror the fox would feel in the pits of his stomach, the horror in his eyes, the helplessness in his heart. He most certainly would have never allowed this to even remotely come forward if he were the one to be in your presence. But... he wasn't. The whole team would have felt this immense sense of hesitance and dread to even tell him about it, having noticed his attachment and emotional bond towards you... and when the words slip from Sonic's mouth, not ready to test the nine-tailed foxes’ impatience, he cracks. And not just any regular burst of anger, he has a complete mental breakdown.

Nine will be nothing less than a ball of angst and fright at this point, something which he desperately tried to cover up with an infuriated facade, despite his evident worries from your abduction. But none of that would matter in the end, because he'd behave completely berserk one way or another. He doesn't dare rest or waste time for that matter until he can hold you in his arms again. Likely as soon as they reach The Chaos Council to try and bring you back... Nine would not hold himself back, still taken over by his violent meltdown. Instead of trying to avoid the Council's eyes and enemies that are in the way, maintaining a low profile as he'd say, he releases all of that pent up malice.

Though he'd leave many of the his robotic opponents onto the grounds ...torn to scraps by the fierce abilities of his mechanical tails, Nine would be surprisingly merciful to any living mobian for the sake of getting answers on where you're being held hostage. Because remember; although venting out some of his frustrations during the fight was equal to his hostility towards those who just so happened to be in his way, this mission is not and never will be about assassinating every enemy he comes across for the sake of just hurting them. It's all just to release you from The Chaos Council's grasp, take you back to his workshop where you rightfully belong ...bring you back to him. An objective and promise he will never allow himself to forget ever again after seeing your frightened face and body.

Even after he does get you back to the team, and he will no matter the costs or sacrifices he has to offer. But although you're back home, safe.... His paranoia will continue to linger and remain at its highest. Though the wounds you obtained through your abduction will eventually heal, his trauma of your kidnapping won't for a very long time. The side affects seemingly starts off small through your perspective, and you probably wouldn't even know how much it deep down affected him. Especially as the amber fox just seems to want to stick closeby you, seeking for comforting reassurance and some guidance to get himself back on the right track, which you more than understand and accept with open arms.

But what if I told you that he just got much, ...much more insane and delusional than you may think after you got taken away like that. It was like a newborn kitten being taken away from its mother right after birth, one whom he'd desperately cry out to and crawl after. To Nine, it wasn't just the idea of losing that happiness of having somebody to care about, but this also re-activated his defense mechanism to his past trauma.

Kill or be killed.

Nine's whole mentality practically returns to that of his younger self, almost similar to an age regression... You'd probably also notice the changes in demeanor, how he's practically almost behaving like a juvenile again. Decisions are made more so out of instinct rather than rational, logical thoughts. Which, to you, is something completely foreign and out of character for Nine.

His overprotective impulses would kick in at full force and he'd be quicker to lash out, along with his pessimistic mentality and stress being multiplied in the process, which is something his already poor mental state is absolutely not emotionally capable of handling. Even with you just not being in his eyesight can leave Nine with severe anxiety. His emotions are quicker to flow over, resulting in either anger outbursts or crying... And he practically treats you as if you were actively dying from a disease, constantly thinking of and mentioning the “what ifs”.

There would be many restless nights where he wakes up in the middle of the night, teary-eyed after a dream vision or isn't even capable of drifting off into a slumber at all. The simple thought of you ending up hurt and scarred while he wasn't there to protect you keeps his nerves excessive and senses on constant high alert. Even just the consideration in itself can leave him in a condition of hysteria for the next half hour, unable to calm himself down. These sudden exchanges of panic making you realise just how inconsistent it is, as Nine was usually known as collected, self-assured... in control of the situation. Something you'd consider the other side of the coin of how he was operating at this very moment. A complete and sudden reverse swap in his very identity.

Making you pray... that this was a crutch you could hopefully help him grow out of

#sonic x reader #sonic the hedgehog x reader #sonic the hedgehog #yandere nine x reader #yandere nine #tails nine #nine x reader #nine tails #yandere sonic prime #yandere sonic the hedgehog #yandere sonic #sonic prime x reader #sonic prime nine #sonic prime #miles nine prower #yandere tails x reader #yandere tails #tails x reader #new nine post WOOHOO

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