#it looks like he doesn’t even care about the music side of it anymore | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovebugism · 4 months

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"we’re arguing when the ball drops on new year’s eve, and decide to kiss and shit i don’t think i hate you anymore"

with eddie and grumpy!r pls

ty for requesting! :D — your new years kiss ends up being the loudmouth, metalhead, wild-haired boy you can't stand (enemies to lovers, grumpy!reader, 1.5k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Another year passes in a blink, and suddenly everyone around you is chanting “new year, new me” like it’s not just some overdone mantra destined to be forgotten by mid-February.

It’s not surprising that you and Eddie are the only two not participating in the holiday theatrics. It’s also not surprising that the two of you are spending the entirety Steve’s New Years party bickering like a married couple on the couch.

You both got dragged here — you by Robin, and him by Dustin — and the two of you are acting like total grumps about it accordingly. And even though you can’t stand being in the same room as each other, you’ve been shoulder-to-shoulder in the living room all night.

You’re sitting pretty in a black dress beside him, scowling like a storm cloud while Eddie scoops a handful of pretzels in his mouth. Seemingly noticing your side-eyed glare, he starts to chew more audibly because he knows how much you hate it. The slow and rhythmic smack smack smack makes the chatter around you sound more distant as your skin begins to crawl.

Eddie smiles when you tense — wider when you glare at him.

“Sometimes I wonder why I hate you, and then you do stuff like that, and I think to myself, “oh yeah, that’s why.”

He grins with all his teeth, pretzels crumbs and all. “The feeling’s mutual, princess.”

“Don’t call me that,” you grumble with a roll of your eyes.

You shake your crossed leg to the music playing softly overhead and try to focus on the television in front of you. The staticky film of Times Square isn’t quite as distracting as the boy beside you — and not just because he’s purposefully trying to annoy you.

He has no right to be this pretty, with his wild hair and black button-up and smudged eyeliner. It’s hardly fair.

“Don’t act like one, and I won’t,” he retorts, muffled through the food in his cheek.

“Don’t talk with your mouthful. It’s disgusting.”

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you the widest smile he’s ever looked at you with. The bits of chewed-up pretzel in his teeth make you grimace.

“You’re a child,” you deadpan.

Eddie laughs — a pretty little sound in a scoffed-out breath.

He sits the half-empty bowl on the coffee table, then pushes his sleeves to his elbows. His arms are pale, lanky, and tattooed. Some of the ink is faded and messy, obviously not done by professionals. You think those intrigue you the most. You’d ask about the stories behind them if you even cared.

Eddie rests his elbows on his knees and looks at you over his shoulder. His smile is pink and made of honey — his eyes dark and made of fire.

“You can act like you hate me all you want, but everyone here knows you’re obsessed with me,” he teases with a scrunched nose, motioning to the room with his pointer finger.

No one’s paying either of you any mind. They’re too focused on their own conversations to care about the ones you and Eddie have had a thousand times over. You try to act as disinterested as they do. You think you’re playing the part pretty well, honestly, but Eddie’s looking at you with a twinkle in his eye like he can see right through it.

“That’s very presumptuous of you, Munson.”

“Just calling it like I see it,” he huffs and leans back again, spreading his arms across the back of the couch.

The sudden proximity isn’t lost in you. Neither is the smell of nicotine and sandalwood radiating off of him. It stirs a velvety feeling in the pit of your stomach that you try hopelessly to shove down.

“You must be completely and utterly blind, then.”

“Uh-uh,” he hums with a shake of his wild head. “Twenty-twenty vision, baby.” He leans in close to croon the words in your ear, and your heart lurches into your throat. You shove him off with a half-hearted hand anyway.

“Get off me!” you groan, face scrunched in a childlike annoyance. “And don’t call me baby.”

Eddie settles back beside you with a subtle pout between his brows. “If I can’t call you princess and I can’t call you baby, then what am I supposed to call you?”

“Nothing!” you shout, like being called baby hadn’t stirred something foreignly pleasant behind your ribcage. “Don’t call me anything! Don’t call me at all—”

“Guys! Come here! The ball’s about to drop!” Dustin shouts over the chatter to get everyone’s attention, a bit too loudly. He stands in front of the television along with the rest of the small crowd, ogling at the bad reception of the Times Square Ball and a flashing countdown.

“Sounds like me in middle school,” Eddie jokes, making Steve snort out a laugh when he walks in from the kitchen. You shoot the wild-haired boy a squinted look of disgust and he chuckles. “Oh, c’mon! That was funny, and you know it.”

“Ten!” the crowd begins to chorus.

“You’re an idiot,” you grumble.

“And you’re the one who’s obsessed with the idiot, so… Who’s the real weirdo?”

“Nine!”

“Still you.”

“Ooh,” Eddie lilts, plush lips softly pouted. “So you are obsessed with me?”

“Eight!”

You scoff a bitter laugh. “You love putting words in my mouth, don’t you?”

“Like I said,” the boy hums with a smug smile. “Just calling it like I see it, honey.”

“Seven!”

The dumb name shouldn’t make you melt like it does. You turn into a puddle before you can come up with another comeback. You forget how to form words and get lost in how soft his lips look, pink and delicate like a flower. God, he’s so pretty, you hate him.

“Six!” your friends continue to chant, the only sound in the expansive living room. “Five!”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed about, honestly,” the boy assures with an absentminded shrug, tilting his flushed cheek to his shoulder and flashing you an unkissed grin.

“Four!”

“You’re not the first girl to fall head over heels for me, and you won’t be the last.”

The corner of your lip curls into a quiet smirk. You squint at him, eyes twinkling with mischief and a sudden longing for him to eat his words. “Is that so?” you croon lowly.

“Three!”

He leans in like he’s about to tell you a secret. The nicotine-whiskey concoction on his breath brushes your cheek. Screw the alcohol in your abandoned cup — you’d sooner get drunk on him.

“I’ll make sure to let you down easy, alright? I promise,” Eddie hums with a feigned seriousness.

“Yeah?”

“Two!”

He nods, bushy brows pinching softly together and petaled mouth gently pouting. “Yeah. I’m not in the heartbreaking business, you know? I don’t wanna hurt your feelings, princess, but you should there’s no way in hell that I’m ever gonna—”

“One!” the house chants together, louder this time as they shout, “Happy New Year!”

You blink, and suddenly everyone’s grabbing onto somebody.

Robin and Vickie share a quiet peck you don’t miss in the corner of the room. Mike and El smack a more obvious kiss in the very center of it. A newly grown-up Dustin tries his chances with Nancy, glancing at her with a silent smile she shakes her head at — “Not a chance, kiddo,” she says with a soft pink grin. Even Max leans over to brush a kiss to Lucas’ cheek, right before scowling at him, “This doesn’t mean we’re back together, Sinclair.”

So you feel it’s only right, that in a room of kissed mouths, you get kissed, too.

Eddie is the perfect victim. Mostly because he hasn’t stopped yapping since he sat down beside you, some hours ago now. You reach for him, splaying your hand across his warm jaw (that grows somehow hotter beneath your touch), and pressing a kiss to his blabbering mouth.

You swallow all the half-hearted insults he spews at you because he thinks you really hate him. In Eddie’s mind, if being mean is how he gets closer to you, then when you go low, he’ll go all the way to hell.

You don’t kiss him like you hate him, though. You kiss him like you can taste stars in his mouth. Like the rest of your whole life is sitting on his tongue.

Your mouth locks with his for a moment, kissing the breath from his lungs, only to pull away a second later.

Eddie’s totally frozen when you’re gone. The loudmouth boy — who you decided to hate if you couldn’t love — is left so suddenly speechless. He blinks at you with heavy, velvet eyes and grieves a thing he didn’t even know he could have.

A grin pulls at your freshly kissed mouth. It feels good to have the upper hand again.

“You’re never gonna what?” you tease, tilting your head like you’re innocent.

His mouth parts for an answer. Nothing comes out.

Your smile widens. “That’s what I thought. Honey.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: blurbcember

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myfandomprompts · 7 months

Text

Unhealthy Addiction

(drugdealer!Aemond x Reader)

Synopsis: Your sister is a drug addict, at the mercy of a dreaded drug dealer group led by a mysterious man. When you decide to save your sister from this life that kills her, you didn’t expect to build a whole other addiction to a perfect stranger.

A/N: Just some illogical & weird moderndark!Aemond smut in the October mood.

Words: 5.6k Masterlist

Warnings: dirty talk, dom, oral , vaginal, fingering, manipulation, possessive, begging, light bdsm, slight mention of drugs, praising

Your sister was at her lowest.

She kept screaming at you, scaring the neighbours, alarming the entire street when she went into one of her tantrums and you didn’t know what to do. She was hurting, a pain that only something chemical could ease and you refused to indulge her. This was all she had in mind, getting that fix, and she didn’t mind doing the most violent things, saying the cruellest things to you in order to plead her case.

She kept screaming how she could not be done, how she bought all the drugs from this scary guy, that he convinced her to sell for him. That she couldn’t refuse.

She had no control over herself anymore, but you didn't back down, you had to get her clean.

So you decided that you would take care of it for her.

You made her tell you where she got it from, a shady little place on Silk Street with shady people going around all day and night with business even the police didn’t even dare looking into as you forced her down to the ER. If it was the last link that tied her to this life and her addiction, you would cut it, and, as she dozed off in her hospital bed, you rushed to her flat in apprehension, grabbing the bag full of those terrifying substances and heading down to Silk Street.

You knew it was a bad idea, but you knew you had to do it. You just had to give the bag back, explain to them that your sister wanted nothing to do with them anymore, pay up whatever amount was necessary to make them forget about her and leave.

How naive you were.

You knock on the scruffy-looking door with a trembling hand, the chilly night already settling around you as dogs barked in the distance.

The door creaks open, dim light filtering through a slim screen of smoke that comes out of the messy room. The few people inside look concerningly calm, the soothing electronic music making their head bob inconsistently as the smell of weed slowly reaches you and tickles your nose.

“What?” the huge man at the door says in a flat tone, tattoos on his face but alert eyes strained on you.

“I… have stuff to give back to you,” you courageously state, staring back at him with all the fierceness you could muster and only earning an unimpressed look.

You owed it to your sister, you could do it.

He gauges your appearance mercilessly, unfit for this place and only when you take out the heavy plastic bag out of your purse does he nod silently and step aside to let you in.

You retain a cough, the scent of smoke becoming much stronger as you enter and making your eyes sting. Several pairs of eyes which weren’t hooded and gazing into the void looked lazily at you, eyes so dark there was no more colour in them, swallowed by the blackness of their centre. Two or three men stared at you like they would jump at you at the first false movement while the few women present were half laying on the couches, mouth open in what looked like delight, but you knew better.

A chill goes up your spine, hearing the door close behind you in a sharp snap while you feel the air shift around you.

You did not belong here.

“Who are you?”

The man came out of nowhere, brown skin and brown eyes, luxurious dark hair falling to the side of his face and all dressed in white with a heavy chain hanging around his neck. He scrutinises you, looking you up and down with a judgmental frown.

“It doesn’t matter,” you state after a difficult swallow. “I’m here to return this.”

The man eyes the bag you extend to him, a flash of recognition passing through his features but he doesn’t take it, rather deepening his frown. “Where did you get this?”

You bite your lips, growing uneasy under his gaze. All that you wanted was to leave this place as quickly as possible, even if you had to lie to achieve that. “Maria doesn’t want to do this anymore, and we don’t want any problems. So I’m doing the right thing, and returning it to you.”

The man sneers, an amused smile dancing on his lips and you tense. “Yeah, I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, sweetheart. You’re her sister, aren’t you?”

You don’t have time to answer as the man at the door approaches him with a serious look on his face, ignoring you. “Cole, the boss is back.”

“Perfect timing, he’ll want to see this,” the man named Cole answers without taking his eyes off you. “You’re coming with me, sweetheart. We’ll sort this out, don’t worry.”

You could feel it, the trap closing in on you as he takes the bag from your hands and turns away for you to follow him. “I just want to give you this and leave. Please.”

He gives you an uninterested look over his shoulder, shrugging. “It’s not up to me.”

You shiver as panic starts to fill your nerves, the desire to flee, to run becoming stronger but you make the sensible choice and do as you’re told.

He leads you into a cold-lighted room where the sole wide window is draped with a thick grey curtain and blocks your view of the humid night. The carpet floor is dirty, rendering you uncomfortable as you advance further into the room, chairs and stools stacked along the walls and an old looking desk standing at the opposite side. Even the huge couch below the window isn’t welcoming, the mess on the low table in front of it is filled with objects you don’t recognise.

You shouldn't be here.

Cole throws the bag on the table unceremoniously, the sound startling you as he commands you to wait. “Don’t touch anything.”

You try to settle your breathing, the room suffocating you as you realise that you are stuck, led there by a fool’s hope of coming to an understanding with these men, with dangerous people. You recall the frightened look on your sister’s face as she yelled at you, saying that she couldn’t fail them, couldn’t upset them.

Maybe you should have listened to her. Maybe you should have been scared too.

Muffled whispers filter through the door over the faint music, making you turn around with renewed anxiety as you recognise Cole’s voice. You know your time is running out, and you have no idea what’s going to happen. But then the door opens and you freeze.

It isn’t Cole, but someone much taller, leaner, terrifyingly attractive.

He has long silver hair, silk cascading down over his shoulders that are wrapped around a dark green vest. He wears black trousers, matching with his tee-shirt that clings to his form and contrasts with his skin, fair and white. He effortlessly radiated an unsettling confidence, which you could feel even from a distance, making every muscle in your body tense, and you don’t know where to look. He hasn't even spoken yet.

His eyes are fixed on you, a perverted glow shining within them but you can’t meet it, too focused on the angular features of his face, on how flawless his marble skin and thin red lips look under the dim light. Everything about him is captivating, from his collarbone that peaks from under his shirt to the long scar that runs across his left cheek and further up his eye.

At this moment, you understood why your sister had been scared.

He stares at you for a while before finally smiling briefly in unconcealed satisfaction and closing the door. You don’t move, too stunned to utter a single word as he slowly walks towards the table to pick up the plastic bag and examine it closely, humming to himself. You watch, speechless, noticing the red marks over his knuckles, the bruises that stain his fist and you swallow the taste of iron in your mouth.

The bag is carelessly dropped again as he reaches for a cigarette within his vest without a word, fingers enticingly coming to trap it between his lips and you’re hypnotised, desperate for him to acknowledge you, to say something. But then he flicks the lighter, casting an orange flame on the upper side of his face and you can’t help but gasp.

Unnoticed in the dim light, you can see it now, see how one of his eyes shimmers an icy blue, while the other one shone darker, deeper.

Blue as the night sky.

“You’re Maria’s sister?”

His voice makes you jump, his deep and velvety tone making the hair stand at the back of your neck and your heart race in your chest.

“Y-Yes,” you stammer, words coming out of your throat in strained sounds. “Yes, I am.”

He nods, one corner of his lips curving upwards slightly as he takes a drag, making a thin curtain of smoke escape his sharp nose. “And you’re here because…?”

You manage to swallow the lump in your throat as he draws closer, intelligent eyes searching your features, making you hyper aware of how small you are compared to him. “I… just want to give the drugs back, so she can leave this part of her life behind. We won’t cause any trouble, I-I promise.”

He stops inches in front of you, his body going rigid as his eyes turn a shade of black, making you take a step back in reaction. “And what makes you think I can let that happen?”

You widen your eyes at the soft-spoken threat, freezing as you cower under his gaze.

He sees this. It makes him smile.

“Relax, kitten. I'm not going to hurt you…” he says in the same unsettling tone as his blue eye lowers to the way your chest heaves under your shirt. “It’s just… not how we do things. When you take my stuff, you make a commitment, and you have to go all the way through with it or you get punished. There is no return policy.”

You could see it now, right beneath the scar, the gemstone shoved inside of his eye socket, as blue as the starless sky. It glowed softly, beautifully, and you were left to wonder how a man like him could be so dangerously pretty.

You urgently chase the thought away, slapping yourself internally as you feel yourself shrink under his gaze. “She can’t-,” you try uselessly, feeling the noose slowly constricting around your neck. “I understand, but I’ll pay for you to take it back. I beg of you, it represents almost nothing for you. Please…”

Something noticeably shifts in his eye at your last word, his nostrils flaring as he takes some time to compose himself before asking. “What’s your name?”

You hesitate, thrown off by the question and unable to come up with the simple answer and he grows impatient at your silence. He takes a firm step forward, making the back of your knee hit the chair behind you as the faint heat from the tip of his cigarette reaches your sides somewhere over the skin of your hand.

“What’s. Your. Name?” he repeats slowly, a hint of darkness in his voice.

“Y/N,” you finally blurt out, barely hearing your own voice as he claims your space like it’s his own, prowling.

His lips form silent syllables as he repeats your name to himself, finally satisfied. “And do you know mine, kitten?”

You silently shake your head, feeling excitement rise at the prospect of knowing, shameful eagerness taking hold of your mind, not thinking for a second that it might anger him.

But he only clicks his tongue in disapproval, watching you like you’re nothing more than a nuisance. “I’m Aemond, and if you had known that, kitten, you wouldn’t be here. Because everybody fucking knows I don’t take things back.”

Your nerves stir in renewed fright as his words ring like a death sentence in your ears. You have to find something, anything that would suit him, please him, but your mind draws a blank, the intensity of his gaze holding you in place. You remain silent as he takes a drag from his cigarette, not tearing his eye from you and when he suddenly turns away, it leaves a cold trail of chills along your spine.

You let out a quiet sigh of relief, your lungs burning from your previous lack of air as he wanders around the room.

“I take it you don’t use?” he says unexpectedly as he crushes his cigarette in the ashtray before taking the bag again on the table, drawing a round white pill out with his usual soft tone.

“No…” you answer weakly as he rolls the pill between his fingers, your eyes following the movement, transfixed.

“Mh… You’re one of those… The ones that don’t take wrong turns, the good girls.”

The stress that had settled between your ribs turns into something warmer at the calling, his tone inexplicably making the last ounce of courage you have left emerge.

“If I didn’t take any wrong turns, I wouldn't have ended up here.”

He stills, his eye darting towards you like a single-eyed hawk and you bite your lips in instant regret, almost drawing blood as teeth sink into the thin flesh. His eye lowers to it and you instantly let go with a bashful expression.

He chuckles darkly, a devious smirk appearing on his features and you blink. “See, this is where you’re wrong. I don’t think you’ve realised the opportunity you just walked into… Y/N.”

You feel your stomach turn as reality hits you, your worst fear taking shape right in front of your eyes. Whatever he wanted with you, you could not let it happen, you could not fail your sister and get into the system like she did. She needed you. “Please, Aemond, I only want to be square with you and-”

There was a loud sound, plastic being crushed under immense force as his hand wrapped around the bag and violently squeezed. He took a deep shaky breath, his flashing gaze fixed on you as his knuckles turned white under the pressure. But it was gone seconds later, acting like it had never happened as he dropped the bag and started walking towards you.

“I used, once. This is how it all began,” he stated, a single slender finger brushing the edge of the table as he advanced. “I wasn’t really addicted, but I knew it was enough to cloud my mind, to make me believe that I needed it. But do you want to know what I really need, kitten? Why I stopped?”

You tried to hold his gaze when he lifted a single heated eye at you, excited by his little story, excited by something. He was in his element, he had the upper hand, he knew he was in control. You were only a slave to the fiery blood in your veins.

His finger had reached your arm by the time you registered his question, looming over it like a reverse magnet, untouching. He smiles when he sees chills prickle over your skin there, right before his pupils spread wider, an ink drop in water and you hold your breath.

“I like people begging me. I like the desperation in their voices, their scared little expressions as they mutter pathetic excuses, their pleas as I beat them…” You can feel the thrill in his tone, the pleasure that radiates off him, and you gasp when his finger finally touches your skin, burning. “I like hearing them beg me when they realise there is no escape, when they realise I’m the only solution, that I alone can give them what they want…I like this sensation of control, and I need to feel it on my own terms. Without any substances."

His hand has travelled down your arm, finding your pulse and you feel the thrumming of your heart meet his fingertips, pressing the delicate vein there. You wonder if he can feel your blood running within it, hot and wild.

“You know, when Cole told me there was a lost pretty girl that wanted a refund, I laughed and could not wait to scare that girl. How naive she must be, how foolish. Coming here, wanting nothing more but to protect her poor little sister, asking what I cannot grant you, thinking you’ll get out of it like it’s nothing and not realising the mess you’re in. Just… perfect.”

You want to talk, argue, but you had stopped breathing altogether when his face leans slightly closer to your shoulder and you hear him breathe in your scent, humming within your neck.

“But then, here you are… Pleading me, not once, but three times, kitten, with your sweet little tone of yours and I just-” he inhales brusquely, his pupil now completely blown out as you tremble beneath him. When he manages to talk again, his voice has dropped several octaves lower, guttural. “And now, let’s say that scaring you is not the only thing I want to do to you.”

The air feels sucked out of the room as tension fills it, palpable within the silence and you retain a whimper. His hold on your wrist turns stronger, as if to mark it, your pulse constricted beneath his fingers and you suddenly feel dizzy, gravity pulling you backward as you lose balance. You drop in the chair behind you like a stringless marionette, overthrown by him and his overwhelming presence.

He doesn’t flinch, neither does he comment as he leans over you, strong arms resting on the armrests at each side of you, trapping you as if he had planned everything. You huff when the tip of his hair grazes the skin of your cleavage, a silver curtain dropping under his face.

“So we're going to try this once…. Say please to me again, and I might reconsider your sister's situation.”

A ray of hope cuts through your foggy mind at his words, determination spurring within you as your treacherous tongue already rolls to form the words, eager to please him despite the lack of air in your lungs. “Please...”

The wood at your side cracks as he tightens his grip on the armrest, a repressed hiss dying within his throat as he composes himself again, hooded eye fixed on you, smothering.

“Hm… Yes,” he breathes, content visible on his features. “But the thing is, kitten, your sister was useful to me. She had access to people I didn’t, people like you. I’m sure you can see why it’s difficult for me to let her go.”

You know he is taunting you, dragging out what he wants from you and you know you have no choice but to indulge him, you need to indulge him. “She won’t survive if she keeps on, please.”

You can feel it, the pleasure he takes out of it, the delectable sensation he draws from your words as he licks his lips, a devious smirk tugging at them as he speaks slowly. “And what about you… Kitten?”

The near whisper makes your spine go rigid, his nose coming to loom over the junction of your jaw and you truly try to answer. “I- I don’t understand…”

He is the first to notice as his eyes are drawn to the sudden movement of your body under him: how tightly your thighs are clenched together, how tense you are as you shift, muscle tenses.

You blush shamefully, untying your legs to try to soothe the ache there as well as the heat pooling between them. He lifts a knowing eyebrow, observing you with excitement. "Hm… Not such a good girl after all, are you, kitten?”

He slowly lowers himself, broad hands coming to stroke the length of your thighs from your knees to your hips, the heat of his palms scorching you through your jeans and you repress a whimper, failing. “Did begging me turn you on, kitten?”

His voice is hoarse, playful. You notice his own arousal pressing against the fabric of his pants and it makes your legs widen, watching helplessly as your body responds to your primal urges. “Do you need me to touch you? Is that what you want?”

You struggle, trying to fight what had been evolving since he had entered the room but you find yourself overpowered by your desire, submerged by it. "Yes…"

He arches his eyebrow higher. "Yes, what?"

"Yes, please."

He almost groans as he slowly comes to unbutton your jeans, a warm hand sliding under it and your stomach tenses when he connects with your dampness. "Fuck, kitten. Do you want to say please to me again?”

He rises, giving himself a better angle as he comes to close his face over yours, suffocating as he waits for an answer out of you. When you give him none, he proceeds to grab your chin, pressing your cheeks between his fingers as he continues to stroke the heat between your thighs.

His face is close as he breathes your ragged breaths. “Lost your tongue?”

His gaze is unforgiving, his lips parted in delectation as you moan under him, and you suddenly feel the need to taste them, to chase them.

The movement makes him pull back, tutting as he grips your cheeks tighter. “That was bad. Very bad of you.”

You let out a plaintive whimper when he steps away, his hands departing your wet core and mouth as he comes to stand before you, jaw hanging low, slightly panting. His gaze is fixed on your glistening skin despite the harshness of it, a punishing glare within his eye as he lowers his jeans and briefs in order to free his bulging girth. You feel your mouth salivate as he starts pumping himself in wide long strokes, gaze transfixed on your face.

You’re unable to look away, heaving and hands gripping the wood of the chair tightly. You don’t realise the grinding of your hips against the surface of the chair, unconsciously chasing for what he robbed you of, wanting.

“Stop that,” he commands in a strained voice as precum starts leaking from his tip. You immediately obey, your body stilling as he comes closer, a pang hitting your core at the sight of his continuous movement over him. “You want a taste, kitten?”

One of his hands reaches for your hair, fingers tangling in them softly as he continues to stroke himself steadily, looking down at you with parted lips and he almost purrs when you nod bashfully. He guides you on the floor, eyes blown wide as he makes you kneel before him by a slight pull of your hair. You lick your lips in expectation, soothed by his hand within your strands and feeling the heat radiating off of him.

You feel warmth spread within your cheek as you approach but he suddenly yanks your hair strongly, holding you into place in a hiss. “Then beg for it.”

He has stopped his ministrations over himself, rather squeezing the base of his shaft and making the already swollen tip inflate with blood as he watches you with a harsh and wild blue eye. You have to swallow the saliva that has accumulated in your mouth to talk. “Please, I want you in my mouth, Aemond.”

He groans as he lets go of his throbbing cock and loosen his hold over your scalp, allowing you to finally run a playful tongue along his length and wrap your hands around him, appeased by the sounds you draw out of him. “That’s it… Good girl.”

You try to go slow, hollowing your cheeks while you take him deeper and deeper, but as the minutes pass you feel the pressure of his hand in your hair tighten. The next moment he is claiming your mouth, making his tip hit at the back of your throat in loud lewd sounds as well as gag several times before he lets you go with a low growl.

You try to settle your breathing again as he wipes the single thread of saliva that connects you to his cock before probing you up by your chin, chest heaving in lust. “Do you even know how good that begging mouth feels? Do you even realise?”

You only feel the aching inside of your lower stomach heighten through your daze, and your mouth forms lazy words you don’t know the purpose of, blinking weakly. “Please, Aemond…”

“Fuck, kitten. Are you going to ask me to fuck you, is that it? Is that what you want to say?”

His thumb grazes the side of your jaw and you barely acknowledge his length against your hip, hot against your flesh. “I- Yes.”

A low grumble escapes his mouth right before you’re pushed on the sofa without warning, his hands rushing to get rid of his vest and pants before tugging at yours, forcing you to dig your hands into the cushions as he bends you over.

You quiver as your skin is met with the cool air but the next moment he moulds his chest against your back and you freeze, his mouth coming to position inches from your ear as a rough hand grabs your throat from behind, squeezing.

“From now on, kitten, you beg me for everything. You want to be touched? You beg me. You want to touch me? You beg me. You want my cock? You say please. You want to cum? You fucking ask permission. You’re gonna be extra polite for me, you understand?”

You let out a strained sound against his fingers he takes for an affirmation before taking hold of your hips, not wasting a second to align himself near your entrance and you exhale in want as he lets go of your neck. Your fists clutch the fabric of the sofa as he runs his length against your folds once, twice, and you can’t help but close your eyes in frustration, feeling his pleasure growing at what he knows you’re about to say. “Please…”

You hear his satisfied growl as his fingers presses deeper into your flesh and you let out a quick gasp as he plunges into you in a swift stroke, quickly replaced by needy moans as you feel the ache in your loins sharpen. He fills you, his thrusts growing from controlled to erratic, faint praises whispered through the sounds of smacking flesh as he roams his hand over your back, and soon you feel your muscles pulse around him in building tension.

It makes him tighten at once behind you, fingers bruising the flesh of your ass as he suddenly withdraws and with a few last strokes, spills onto your back with a ragged groan.

“Fuck, look at the mess you’ve made…” he tuts while you whimper from the sudden loss, feeling your walls pulsating over nothing as he watches his cock glistens with your fluids. “You don’t care about being dirty, do you? You just like being a good girl.”

You whine again as he spreads his seed over your lower back soothingly, not caring for the stains but rather snaking a hand under your shirt, cupping one of your breasts to squeeze it as you wiggle under him, his name on your tongue.

“What is it, kitten? Do you need to cum?” he purrs as he caresses your breast firmly, hoisting you up against him.

“Yes please, please…”

His hold tightens, his face coming close to your neck and you can feel his hot breath on your cheek as he coos. “Prettier.”

The heat in your stomach thickens, heart racing against your ribcage in nervousness and you melt into his embrace. “P-Please, I need to cum. I need you to make me cum.”

He hums in satisfaction as he turns you around, flattening you against the back of the couch and yanking your shirt over your head as he spreads your legs, his jaw dropping in elation when he slides two fingers inside of you, making your head fall back with a loud moan. Your legs barely hold you as he rubs his thumb over your clit at a consuming pace, his long fingers finding the rough spot within you as if he had known it all of his life, and you’re soon panting heavily.

His gaze is fixed on your face, enjoying every moment, every painful expression as you’re closing on your high, waiting for you to say exactly what he wants and when he feels your walls clenching around his fingers, he stops, violently squeezing your inside between his three digits.

You wail at the sensation, meeting his harsh gaze and fascinated eye and soon you let out a strained sob, your inside muscles constricting painfully. “Aren’t you forgetting something, kitten?”

You swallow with difficulty as he smiles, his grip on you merciless, unmoving and you feel your legs tremble. “Please, don’t stop, I want- I need to cum. Please, I beg you.”

“Good girls ask permission, remember?” he grunts as he starts his movement again, rough digits now too slow on your wetness. “Try again.”

“Can I please… cum,” you plead in a strained sob, gripping the back of the couch more tightly but when he starts stroking your insides again, you see nothing but white, the coiling sensation within your core finally snapping and he doesn’t stop until you’re a puddle under him, letting you sink on the couch in a ghosting embrace.

“That’s it,” he soothes, grazing your waist and breast before gently making you suck on his fingers after the last shockwaves of your climax, tasting yourself through your heavy breaths. “Such an obedient little kitten.”

You slowly start to get the control of your legs back as he wipes some sweat out of your hair, but his gaze is nothing but soothing. “Fuck, look how hard you made me again, with you begging me so sweetly…”

He slowly runs one of his hands up your thigh, his hardening state hitting your flesh briefly before he lifts your knees up, positioning his weight over each of your thighs and you blink in anticipation, too dazed to utter a word. You angle yourself better against his body, the only confirmation he needs before he plunges into you again, this time his desire is too strong to wait for you to find your composure back.

It burns, vividly so, your swollen flesh barely recovered from your previous climax and you start moaning loudly, your hand rushing to your mouth to stop the embarrassing sounds from escaping your throat.

Two hands come to snap it away, lacing them over your head in a secure hold and you sink your teeth in your flesh when you meet his fierce gaze, the roll of his hips unfaltering. “No no no, kitten. Let them hear you, hear how desperate you are for my cock, how much you like begging for it.”

“Kiss me.”

He recoils slightly, his thrust slowing gradually as his single eye widen, the black of it taking over. “I don’t kiss my pets.”

“Please...”

Your voice sounds broken, a hint of determination within it that makes him blink and you can clearly see him battling himself for a moment before he crashes his lips against yours. The suddenness of it makes you moan against him as he devours you, the roll of his hips starting again deeper, needier.

It hits every right spot despite the overstimulation and soon you feel a numbness take hold of you, goosebumps spreading over your body. “Aemond, I’m going to-”

He grunts against your mouth as his hand comes to play with your breast again, freeing one of your own in the process that you bring to his face, stroking the smooth skin there along with the scar that marks his cheek. “You’re not cumming yet, I need you to wait a little while longer, alright kitten?”

His thrust slows again and you feel the pleasurable pain of being denied once more, filled by the need to obey him. “I can’t-”

“Don’t you dare cum before I say so, be a good girl and wait for my fucking permission, you understand?”

You close your eyes in a tremendous effort not to let the stretching sensation of him rocking inside of you overcome you too fast, your back arching under him and you feel his free hand flatten against your stomach to immobilise you, shushing you in a husky tone.

You beg one last time, feeling your guts heating up with the way he is chasing his own climax with deep thrusts and you dig your nails in his shoulder.

“Fuck… Come on, kitten, come for me, you can let go.”

Your vision blurs, your eyes rolling back as you cry out, your body going numb under the shattering pleasure and you don’t register anything, not how he follows you minutes later as you clench around him nor where he spills himself. You just feel like your limbs don’t obey you anymore.

You huff, feeling Aemond’s scent and sweat envelop you and when you open your eyes he is looking down at you with a hooded eye.

His thumb massages a spot over your shoulder and a sorry expression passes on his feature as he sets a strand of your hair aside. “I can’t grant you what you asked for.”

You feel cold all of a sudden, the air biting your damp skin as his warm fingers graze your cheek, feeling your disappointment.

“I’ll leave your sister alone, as you wished, but I’m not taking the drugs back. You’ll have to find a way to sell, as Maria promised she would.”

A wave of relief runs through you, happiness for your sister but an odd sensation takes place within your chest as the man next to you watches you with fierceness. “Because you… you’re going to be very useful to me, kitten.”

You don’t glance away, you don’t recoil.

Because you’re not sure you want to leave anyway.

Tagging @watercolorskyy and thanking @babyblue711 for the beta reading. We cannot disappoint.

#aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #usermyfandomprompts #aemond x reader #dark aemond #dark!aemond x reader #modern au #modern!aemond #drug dealer au #aemond smut #aemond targaryen smut #Modern aemond #Dark aemond #Aemond targaryen x you #Aemond x you

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chosocutegf · 1 month

Text

band au!Choso x fem!reader

cw: smut towards the end

(my other fic about band au!Choso)

bassist!Choso who has tattoos, piercings, smokes and wears all black so anyone who sees him for the first time is immediately scared of him. He goes around not giving a fuck about anyone, and doesn’t look at anyone in the eyes, even if they are trying to have a conversation with him.

bassist!Choso who only cares about his music and his band. Anyone who sees him on the stage can say that he is really in love with what he is doing and his instrument, it’s like he gets sucked in from it anytime he takes it in his hands. He has a lot of fans who always try to get his attention, but he dismisses them the moment they approach him.

bassist!Choso that when he plays, his gaze is mostly on his bass and his head nods in time with the notes he is playing. Even when he has to sing the chorus, his gaze is distant or his eyes are closed. No one will catch him smiling at anyone, but rest assured, that whenever he is playing, a little smirk is on his face.

bassist!Choso who never looks up from his instrument and never looks at the audience, you start to assume that he is there just from the music and doesn’t really care about who is in front of him. You are mesmerised from the way his slender fingers move over the four strings, fast as lightning. So when you’re entranced watching him, he finally looks up and it feels like the world just turned upside down.

bassist!Choso who actually misses a note when he sees you for the first time in the front row; no one noticed but he did, and he can’t help but furrow his brows and immediately look away. He is angry at himself for making a mistake in that very moment, while the most beautiful girl is looking at him. On the other side, you think he was disgusted by you from his reaction, so you’re quick to look away, your smile fading.

bassist!Choso who can’t seem to forget you and is confused because now a part of his brain isn’t occupied anymore by his music and his bass, but you. He tries to ignore whatever is that he is feeling, but his eyes widen when he sees you at a local pub another day, exactly the same day he is playing with his band. He wonders if you are there to see one of his band mates.

bassist!Choso who is teased from his band members because he looks distracted and he has never been that way. He is always in his own world, listening to music or playing his bass, even in his breaks between concerts. So when they see a hint of interest on his face that isn’t for music, they understand that something happened.

bassist!Choso who notices you again in the first row for the third time and when he sees you observing his fingers instead of the main singer, he thinks you are checking the way he plays because you remember the mistake he did the first time. He is naive, and doesn’t think that you are looking at him because you’re attracted to him.

bassist!Choso who thinks about you the moment he gets off stage, wondering how can a girl be so beautiful. He freezes on his spot the moment he sees you backstage, laughing softly at what one of his bandmates said. He is even more shocked to discover that you’re a friend of them, and that’s why you are usually at the concerts. He finds out that you've been going to see them play for some time already, and he is stunned when he realizes that you have seen him play more times than he thought.

bassist!Choso who is now looking forward to the next concert because he knows you’ll be there. Everyone is shocked when they see him waving at you, and actually giving attention to someone outside his instrument.

bassist!Choso who tries to ignore his band mates teasing him about you, because they understood that something is different when it comes to you. Choso denies everything, and walks away from them just in time to hide his ears getting red.

bassist!Choso who doesn’t understand what he is feeling when he gets down the stage and sees you talking and laughing again with his band mate aka your friend. His stomach tightens while he suddenly feels insecure about himself. He stares at the two of you until you turn to him, feeling his gaze on you. He walks away before you can get to him, suddenly angry at himself for thinking that he could ever be with a girl like you. On the outside, it seems like he is trying to avoid you, his usually aloof expression changed into something like disgust.

bassist!Choso who gets home and doesn’t understand why his cock is hard. He was still angry at himself, but mostly he couldn’t stop thinking about you and wishing that he was the one you were smiling at like that. He touches himself while thinking about you, your smile, your laugh and the way you looked in that little dress.

bassist!Choso who is stunned the next time you go to one of his band’s concert and sees you walking towards him shyly while smiling. He is quiet as he observes you, feeling his mind short-circuit when you look up at him with your soft eyes and realises that’s the first time you two are alone together. You notice his cheeks having a pinkish shade, not knowing that it’s because he can’t stop imagining having you under him, in less formal circumstances.

“Hi,” you say with your soft voice, smiling widely at Choso. His eyes widen and he doesn’t know how to answer you. He is lost thinking that your voice is the most beautiful melody he has ever heard. “Hey,” he mutters, blinking; his voice is low and husky, and you can’t help but recognise that there is a hint of softness in it. “So… uhm, I was wondering if one of these days… maybe, and only if you can of course, you wanted to go have a coffee… with me,” you mumble, your eyes looking around the room and careful to never meet his indifferent ones, while your voice lowers as you go on with the sentence, getting more and more insecure.

Choso’s eyes widens even more at your question, because… are you really asking him out on a date? The sweetest girl ever? He only cared about his band and bass, but in that moment he thought that you would soon get on top of all that.

bassist!Choso who you discover is actually the shyest guy on the earth, and his aloof attitude is because of it. He is actually very thoughtful and intelligent and loves to talk about his passion about music, but will also listen attentively when you talk about your things. He actually thinks that he would rather hear you talk about your life than him tell you about his music.

bassist!Choso who always teases you, loving the reactions he can get out of you. He does all those things that clearly show that he is in love with you: he ruffles your hair, squeezes your thighs, jokes with you etc… You’re both obvious of your feelings, but everyone outside understands that there is something going on between you two.

bassist!Choso who does anything to impress you and always gets so excited when he sees you in the crowd, happily cheering for him in the front row. Everyone is impressed by how he seems to be more daring, going around the stage when he can and doesn’t keep his gaze fixed on his bass anymore but rather on you.

bassist!Choso who confesses his feeling for you through a song. You see him finally smiling on the stage, and he is actually very nervous to do this in front of everyone. However, he can’t hold back anymore, so he makes sure that when he sings those words, your gazes are fixed on each other.

“Even if

you left me out here stranded

my feelings wouldn’t change a bit

You know how I feel, baby

Infinite

The love I have for you, a diamond couldn’t put a dent in it”

bassist!Choso who runs to you the moment he gets down the stage, ignoring everyone else when he knows that you’re waiting for him backstage. Your heart is beating so fast that you are scared that he might hear it when he hugs you and holds you tightly against him.

“You were really good out there,” you tease him, pulling back from his embrace. A little grin tugs at the corner of his lips and his brows rise, “yeah? Did you also like how I confessed my feelings for you?”. Your breath hitches at his confirmation, and you can swear that your heart is going to give out before a nervous chuckle leaves your lips and you talk, “especially that moment… you stole the words from my mouth”.

You’ve never seen him smile so broadly after your words, but you’re interrupted gaping when he kisses you. His band mates gasp when they see it, before screaming and cheering for you two.

bassist!Choso who is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever imagine. From the outside, he looks like a bad guy with all his piercings and tattoos, but in reality he is just a silly guy and a nerd for music. He loves to see you in the crowd during his concerts, looking at him. But he loves even more when he finally gets you on his bed, laying naked on your back while he fucks you.

bassist!Choso who fucks you slow and nice, dragging his big cock inside you lazily, making you feel every inch of him and his veins. His swollen tip always hits your sweet spot making you let out those precious little moans that he knows he will put in a song so everyone can hear the sweet melody that you are.

bassist!Choso who teases you on purpose when he is practicing with his bass, knowing that you love when his fingers nonchalantly move on the four strings. He makes it even harder for you when he makes sure to not wear a t-shirt, so you can see his toned chest and strong arms, his muscles flexing as he moves his fingers on the instrument.

“Cho,” you whine, squirming on your seat, and feeling the waves of the bass hit your core. Your boyfriend glances up at you with a mock innocent expression, and you almost faint when he continues playing even if his gaze is on you, “what, princess?”.

You pout slightly and crawl closer to him, nuzzling against his shoulder before cupping his cheek and pecking his lips, “stop teasing me,” you murmur, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. He raises his brows casually but he can’t hold back the grin that spreads on his lips, “doing what?”. You roll your eyes at his words, and you’re quick to move his hands away from his bass, putting them on your body, making sure that he gives all the attention you deserve and not to that stupid instrument.

bassist!Choso who knows how to use his fingers in the proper way. He always makes sure to make you cum on them at least twice before doing anything else. He likes to prep you for his cock, because he knows he is big and you can’t fit him if your pussy isn’t properly stretched.

bassist!Choso who loves to see you with his bass, trying to learn how to play it. He teaches you, placing your fingers the right way, his bigger ones caressing your skin. His special way to teach you is to sit behind you, his fingers playing with your sweet pussy while he guides you with his voice, clicking his tongue when you almost drop his instrument.

bassist!Choso who scares anyone but you. And he still doesn’t give a fuck about anyone else, but you make the exception. He only cares about his music and his band… and you, only you.

i’m probably gonna make a part 2 because this wasn’t enough and i barely scratched the surface (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

(thanks Tyler The Creator for the lyrics)

(m.list)

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boxtea · 3 months

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🎀imagine making padawan Anakin sleep in your frilly pink bed (18+)

「 I mostly wrote this because I wanna make someone sleep in my hello kitty bed tbh 」 not proofread

After a day of following around your master on a mission you were so god damn tired with two things on your mind, cuddling Anakin and taking a nap.

You marched your way to his quarters knocking on the door, when he opened it his eyes lit up to see his favorite girl “You’re back!” He said as he grinned and picked you up. “Oh I missed you so much” Anakin mumbles into your neck, taking in your scent. “Ani..” you whine, “I missed you too, can we please have a nap?” He sets you down and takes in your tired expression. “I’m sorry princess of course.” He goes to lead you back into his room but you stop him and tug on his sleeve. “Noo.. in my room please” during your time away you missed your comfy bed with all your stuffed animals so much, thats the only place you wanted to be. Anakin stop and stared for a bit “your room?” He hesitates. “Sure I suppose..” he reluctantly agrees.

Being a hard headed teen boy he wasn’t exactly thrilled to be sleeping in a pink girly bed, and your stuffed animals and pillows never really left room for him. But on the other hand that meant you being pressed against him and the whole bed just smelled like you.

As you led back to your room, guiding him by holding his hand he couldn’t help but think about how his hand was so much bigger than yours and how soft your hands were. Then his eyes drifted to your hips swaying and how perfect your butt looked, but before he knew it you opened your door and dragged him into your room.

Taking no time you slipped off your pants and shirt, not minding Anakin watching and he did. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you struggled to take off your bra. Of course he rushed over to help you, admiring the way your chest looked. “You’re so pretty..” he mumbles, reaching his hands to grope and feel you. “Ani..” you let out a soft moan and it was music to his ears. “I missed you so much princess” he whines out, backing you onto your bed. “Ani I wanna sleep..” you protest but it’s no use.

Anakin can’t help himself, you look so perfect and he missed you so much while you were on your mission. He gets off the bed and gets on his knees in front of you, pulling your clothed pussy to his face by hooking his arms under your thigh. He presses his nose to the area between your hips and your thigh and inhales before deciding it’s not enough and sticking his nose directly to your panties and huffing you like a drug. “Fuck you smell so good” he groans and you melt at his perverted actions. He pulls your panties to the side and kisses all over your pretty pussy. You moan and dig your hands into his short hair. “Ani please!” It comes out as almost a moan, your want for him is almost a need at this point. “Please what? Tell me princess.” He stares at you from between your thighs as he pulls off your panties. “Please eat me out Anakin..” before you can even finish your sentence he’s licking up your pussy. The man practically moans at the taste of you, shoving his tongue inside for more.

“Anakin!” You squeal as he eats you like a starved man.

He moves up, taking your clit into his mouth and sucking on it while shoving two fingers inside your pussy, curling them and rubbing along your walls. It doesn’t take much longer until your close. He can easily tell by the way you tighten around his fingers and you tug on his hair. Your moans get louder until you can’t take it anymore and cum all over Anakins hand and face. He removes his fingers, shoving them in his mouth and licking them clean before moving to clean your pussy until he hears your whines of overstimulation. “You did so good princess” he praises while rubbing your thigh, getting up onto the bed to pull you close to his body. “You’re so good honey” you can feel him poking you but you’re just too sleepy to care. Anakin pets your hair and kisses your temple. “Have a nap princess.”

「 I have no clue how to write sos critique welcome ily 」

#anakin x reader #darth vader x reader #anakin skywalker smut #padawan anakin #x reader smut #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader smut #anakin skywalker x reader #hayden christensen x reader #Hayden Christensen smut #Hayden fangirl #please help sos

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vlrspace · 4 months

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where’s everybody? yuuji wonders as he walks through the dorms, looking for his friends, who seemingly disappeared from the face of earth. he long stopped calling out names, already feeling a little defeated by the fact that he will spend his saturday afternoon alone.

it doesn’t bother the pink haired male as much anymore, he’s used to being alone even when his grandpa was alive. still, the slight sting in his heart and the small lump in the back of his throat is something he can’t evade. though right before his mood swings towards the gloomier side, yuuji takes a big breath and decides to might as well make something to eat and maybe watch a movie too, there’s no point in sulking around.

what he doesn’t expect is hearing the sound of music from the kitchen, following by the clinking of dishes.

as he opens up the door, yuuji sees you leaning over the kitchen isle in the middle of the room, looking at a battered up book, reading to yourself. he contemplates to silently turn around and go back to his room, not wanting to be a bother but you look up at him after hearing someone stepping into the room.

and when a sweet smile spreads across your face, yuuji finds himself not wanting to leave.

“yuuji! wanna bake cookies with me?” you ask excitedly upon seeing him and you stand straight back up, waiting for his answer.

at your question, the boy opposite of you feels warmth spreading through his whole body and he’s sure there is a faint blush on his cheeks. you’ve been nothing but kind to him ever since he joined jujutsu tech, his pretty upperclassman who’s the definition of an angel. his heart flutters with every smile you send his way and he could literally melt in your arms every time you hug him.

so without hesitation, yuuji replies “yes, i’d love to!” even if he hadn’t baked cookies before and has no clue what to do.

“great, come here then” you invite him closer happily as you make him space, so he can also read the instructions in the book as well. “have you baked cookies before?” you ask, while looking up at him with bright eyes and yuuji feels butterflies flying around in his tummy.

“no, no i haven’t” he answers with a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his head and you take the book in your hands, standing a little closer to him.

“well it’s quite easy, you can never make the cookie dough wrong, but we have to make sure we take it out of the oven in time, so they aren’t burned to crisp” you explain and yuuji can’t tear his eyes away from you. “what kind of cookies do you want to make?”

yuuji doesn’t care what kind of cookies you two make, as long as he gets to spend time with you, alone like this. he can’t seem to function properly anyways, because you stand a little too close to him, not that he minds, and the smell of your strawberry shampoo and the whiff of your parfume fills up his nostrils, he feels very comfortable being around you.

that’s why yuuji tells you, he doesn’t mind, he’s not a picky eater and he’s happy making cookies however you like. you excitedly nod and the two of you get prepared to make chocolate chip cookies.

ten minutes later, the two of you are well into making the cookie dough and while you sometimes chime into the conversation with the instructions, you and yuuji talk about anything and everything that’s on your minds.

“do you know where everyone is?” yuuji asks curiously and you think for a second before answering.

“well as far as i know, nobara and maki went shopping or more like nobara dragged maki with her” you let out a laugh and yuuji joins you because he can imagine that be the case. “yuuta is still abroad on a mission. panda and toge went to get a few groceries because it’s their turn to make dinner tonight” you fist bump the air and yuuji can only agree with you because the two second years do cook well, but it makes him wonder if you’d like his cooking too.

“and megumi?” he asks before he’d get too into his head about you.

“i don’t actually know where he is” you say with your brows furrowed and you only shrug after a few seconds. “he might be in his room, you know how he likes his space” your response makes yuuji sulk over the dough in his hands and a visible pout forming on his face.

“i knocked on his door and got no response” he mumbles dejectedly and you let out a little giggle at his reaction.

“awh, it’s okay yuuji don’t take it to heart, that’s just how megumi is and besides we get to hang out together. and you know, i really like spending my time with you” your last words are softer and quieter, your gaze remains on your own cookie dough and you hope that your blush isn’t as visible because your face sure feels hot.

it’s funny how you thought that you could keep your feelings at bay, but it’s proven to be a real struggle when he’s a few inches away from you with his large, veiny hands and the loose white shirt does nothing to hide his broad shoulders and muscular body and you don’t even want to think about those grey joggers. and yuuji is so nice, not many boys your age are this friendly and kind, he’s also very funny and strong willed (you can’t imagine what it’s like to exist with sukuna in the same body). you’re somewhat grateful that you are a year above him because you would have a hard time being around him as classmates, while also heavily crushing on him.

you hadn’t realised that yuuji moved away from his spot, his own dough completely flattened out and ready to be portioned into smaller shapes. you are nowhere near that far, though that is no surprise, with a natural raw strength like yuuji’s, he has no trouble with flattening out cookie doughs or anything really.

his firm chest pressing against your back is the first thing you feel, conjoined with his larger, warmer but slightly sticky hands on your own ones, helping you with the dough as his lips hover just above your left ear.

when did he move behind you like that?

“i like spending my time with you too” he replies lowly, pressing you a little into the kitchen isle as he works the dough with your hands.

yuuji doesn’t know what’s got into him, his body moved on its own and in a second he was behind and on you. he can feel sukuna’s energy slightly fading and yuuji guesses this whole thing was his idea. for once, he’s thankful for the evil curse, but he hopes that you aren’t uncomfortable.

the last thing yuuji wants is for you to be uncomfortable, with him.

your breathing is a little rapid from his actions, but then he feels you leaning into him and yuuji feels the butterflies doing another round of flying in his tummy. it isn’t like you aren’t the same, mainly after his words, your mind feels a little hazy as you feel a sudden wave of happiness washing over you.

yuuji presses your hands against the dough gently, not wanting to hurt you. the process is a little slower than when he was doing it alone and when you two are finished, it makes the boy chuckle at how quick you are to grab a cookie cutter, your butt pressing into his crotch softly (he can barely stop a groan leaving his mouth) and he wraps his right hand around yours and the two of you begin to press the cutter into the dough.

your left hands are intertwined on the kitchen isle, his palm completely engulfing yours as the two of you continue on working in silence.

@/vlrspce, 2023

#vlrwrites #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #yuuji itadori x reader #yuuji itadori x you #itadori x y/n #itadori x you #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori x reader #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji x you #itadori yuji x y/n #yuji x reader #yuji x you #yuji itadori x reader

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neonghostlights · 4 months

Text

Part two to this

You wrapped your arms around yourself as you sat on the carpet in front of Robins coffee table.

Vickie had made you some tea to help the nerves but it did nothing to calm the storm brewing in your stomach.

You stared at the photo of yourself as you walked out of the emergency room doors, still in your light blue scrubs. You had your work bag slung over your shoulders and you looked completely and utterly exhausted as you walked out of your nightshift.

You flipped back through the pages, seeing how beautiful the other women associated with Eddie were, it was a punch straight into your chest to see your photo compared to theirs.

“You’re torturing yourself,” Robin called from where she stood with the phone pressed against her ear. She had immediately called Steve who was currently on the other side of the country on a business trip. “Steve wants to know if you need him to come home?”

You sighed before shutting the magazine. You knew you would just end up opening it again like you had at least ten times since Vickie spotted it in the checkout line at the grocery store earlier that day.

“No. Tell him I said to have fun in New York,” you said as cheerful as you could manage.

Robin frowned and went back to muttering to Steve.

You avoided every mention of Eddie Munson at all costs for the past six years. Of course, with as famous as he was it was hard to always avoid.

You didn’t want to get dragged into whatever it was he had going on.

You had done nothing wrong, just living your life and working as a very tired resident in the hospital.

You closed your eyes, the image of that day engrained in your memory, the day that Eddie called your relationship off in favor to have some freedom on the west coast while playing his music.

You knew you two had been growing more and more distant you with being busy in college and him trying to get his music career off the ground.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Vickie said softly as she sat on the couch behind you. “Why take pictures of you? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Steve said he’s getting a lawyer,” Robin chirped as she threw herself down on the couch beside her girlfriend.

“No. No lawyer. It’s just going to make it worst,” you groaned.

“You know how crazy Eddie-shit, sorry, assholes fans can get. It’s not great that your name is associated with him,” Robin argued.

“It’s also not great to draw anymore attention to it. I think that this will all blow over and no one will even care by next week,” you said, pushing yourself up off the floor and walking to the window.

The phone rang and Robin hopped up, muttering my about how Steve can’t go more than five seconds without hearing her voice.

Vickie rolled her eyes at you with a smile at Robins antics.

“Wait, wait, wait, slow down. Let me see what she says,” Robin said loudly to the person on the other end of the phone.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, whatever it was, it couldn’t be worst than your picture and name making national headlines.

“It’s Dustin. Eddie called him and he wants to talk to you.”

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson series #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #rockst

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lovelettersforthedamned · 6 months

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Girls Night

--genre + trope: FLUFF!!!, sfw

---pairing: tasm!peter parker x f!reader

--word count: 0.7k

--summary: you thought that getting ready for girls night would be easy, but peter makes it harder when he's staring at you like that.

--warnings: some smooches, peter would do anything for the reader, mentions of being drunk, so much fluff wow.

--gif credits: @gatorstillman

You thoroughly believe that girls night is sacred, and should be honored at least twice a month. Every part of girls night, and sometimes morning, is something so special to you. Getting ready for tonight should’ve been uneventful, and pretty straightforward, but this time to yourself is quickly interrupted by Peter’s big brown eyes staring into the side of your face. He’s lying on your shared bed right next to the vanity he bought and put together for you after watching you hunch over on the floor next to a mirror that is half your size.

You swear that if you looked hard enough into Peter’s eyes, you could see hearts in them. It feels like his eyes haven’t left you ever since you started getting ready. It doesn’t make you uncomfortable in the slightest, but you do look over occasionally when he seems a little too quiet. “Hi baby,” a dopey smile plastered on his features.

“Hi, my love,” you chirp back, “what are you doing?”

He shifts to get closer to you, “Just looking at you.”

“Oh okay, baby. Don’t forget to blink,” a teasing smile escapes your lips.

Peter doesn’t even respond back in defense of your comment, he just keeps staring at you. “You’re so beautiful,” was the only thing that left his mouth.

You’re shocked, and he’s still staring at you as if you’re made out of gold.

Looking down at the time on your phone, you rush to finish applying your lip gloss before you head to your closet to find something to wear. Peter’s eyes never leave your frame as you frantically move from one side of the room to the other, searching for an outfit. The only sound was the music you put on before you started getting ready, you couldn’t even tell if Peter was even coherent anymore, but you needed to leave in less than ten minutes and Peter was the last thing on your mind.

As you finally put on an outfit you’re happy with, you take one last glance in the mirror before turning to Peter, “How do I look?” Still unsure of you’re clothes, you pull and pick at the material on you, awaiting his answer.

Still lying in bed with a hand holding his head up, he says, “You are breathtakingly beautiful, Y/N.”

A sigh of relief leaves your lips before you take a few steps toward his relaxed form on the bed. Sitting down, you pull on some shoes you found next to your vanity, “I’ll be back soon,” you turn to face him, “I love you.”

He takes this opportunity to reach his hand up and pull you into his lips. A deep and warm kiss is shared between the two of you, and Peter has no intention of letting you go. He wishes you didn’t have to go out tonight, even though it’s been planned for weeks. Pulling away breathlessly, you look at Peter’s now sparkly lips, a laugh leaves you as you realize your lip gloss has transferred onto him.

He doesn’t care, too love-struck to care about what he looks like right now. Bringing your hand up to hold his face, you wipe the sticky product off his lips as you continue to laugh at the situation. He takes the back of your hand and holds your hand there before turning to kiss your palm. “I love you, bug,” he gives your palm one last peck, “have fun and be safe, yeah?”

Standing up, you stand at the foot of the bed, “You know I always am.”

Peter finally sits up, coming out of his daze to place himself in front of you, “Mhm…”

Leaning down to give him one last kiss you start to make your way to the front door, not before a playful smack is felt on your butt. You smirk before you yell a loud and dragged out ‘bye’, before closing the front door and locking it behind you.

Peter lays back down, already missing you, a sigh escaping his lips. Not even a minute passes before he can hear the excited squeals of you and your friends meeting each other outside. Smiling to himself, he knows that he’ll have to take care of your drunken state when you come home later tonight, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

--author's note: just some more fluff with tasm!peter to end your week <3...don't forget to support your writers by liking, commenting, and reblogging! my asks/inbox is open, so send me anything:). ok, bye ily<3333

#peter parker x reader #andrew garfield peter parker #peter parker #marvel #fluff #tasm!peter x reader #spiderman #tasm!peter parker x f!reader

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strawberryspence · 1 year

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Because I am obsessed with the famous trope here’s another one that kept me up all night.

Steve and Eddie dated right after Vecna in ‘86 and it’s perfect. They date each other and it’s like two puzzles clicking together. But they’re young, foolish and they both have mountains of trauma. And sometimes, the passion and love, just isn’t enough to keep a relationship going.

They have a messy break up that has Eddie packing all his stuff up in ‘88. Eddie goes to LA or New York, either way that’s where he gets discovered. He then goes on to write some very angsty and angry rock/metal music about the break-up that gets him up on the map.

Steve hates it. He hates it with every fibre of his soul because it’s one thing when you and you ex still have the same friends and have to be civil with each other, but it’s a whole other thing when you open the radio and this man you dated, this man you loved and cared for and failed is just out here singing it for the whole world to hear.

And yeah listen, it’s petty and dumb. But Steve writes his own fucking songs, it’s not the direct response to Eddie’s song but it’s close. By that time it’s already ‘90 and Eddie’s made a whole name and career out of their relationship. Steve writes the songs, he sings, and he sends the damn demo to almost fifty different companies. And he gets picked up by one company.

Steve takes the pop star route, and with his looks and his somehow amazing vocals, by ‘94 Steve’s on the charts with Whitney and Mariah. The whole Party has solemnly promised to not get involved with their petty songwriting fighting anymore. They also haven’t spoken in person in almost six years, and the only way they communicate now is through the freaking songs.

There’s not a lot of overlap with the rock and pop community, and no one notices it until ‘05. It’s one fan that makes this one blog post talking about this weird freaky coincidence in Steve Harrington and Eddie Munson’s songs. It becomes a whole thing, like someone from Hawkins pulls out the yearbooks and finds out that they could’ve known each other. Their faces are splashed together into every magazine and celebrity entertainment shows.

They don’t say anything about it. No one comments about it for a few years and it infuriates the public even more. The next time Steve comes out with a song, Eddie comes out with another song a few months after and it’s once again a literal conversation about their relationship.

The whole thing continues until ‘11 and by then there’s blog dedicated for all the clues. It’s now a long running thread, and it gets updated when there’s another clue to this massive confusing puzzle. There’s a whole subsection with names of every Party member and how they connect the two artists together. There’s freaking flow charts and pictures and family trees.

It only ends when Eddie finally posts two pictures on Twitter. The first one is taken backstage. All you can see is Steve’s back, but you will know it’s him because of his hair. He’s standing at the side of the stage, and on the stage is Eddie Munson singing. The second one is a picture of Eddie sitting in a couch as Steve looms over him, hands crossed on his chest. Eddie’s signing his own album with a smirk, while Steve glares at him. If you zoom, you can see the sign on the album saying, “To Steve. This album is for you.”

The caption says: “Me and my biggest fan. Circa 2004.”

Steve replies to the original post saying: “You’re sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Eddie deletes the post and reposts it with: “Me and my wonderful, gorgeous, talented husband. I can’t believe I am married to THE Steve Harrington.”

It’s the first time the term “break the internet” is ever used.

Turns out, they were just writing the songs to spite each other and to add fuel to the fandom fire. (In an interview, Eddie says, “It’s our foreplay.” and Steve doesn’t talk to him for a solid 30 minutes for running his mouth. It only lasts for 30 minutes because Eddie made it up to him by using his mouth for something else.)

#HA #i love famous steddie #theyre so petty #also dont come for me #i dont know where the ‘break the internet’ term came from #so dont get mad #anw #i love them #steddie #daeheadcanons #steve harrington x eddie munson angst #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanon #steddie hc #famous steve harrington #famous eddie munson

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mapofthemazeinthemirror · 7 months

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When he thought he'd moved on (ex-boyfriend!txt)

Warnings: not really gender neutral

note: when I started this I wondered if it was appropriate, please let me know if there is any problem. sad hours open, I guess.

Soobin

The cafe was quiet, just the way he liked it. This was your meeting place; even if the place was closed, the two of you would meet here. He got here early, the table in the corner waiting for him as always. The owner had smiled at him and said hello, recognising him as a long-time customer.

As he pulls his earphones from his pocket and begins to detangle them, he unconsciously bounces his leg, an old habit. Soobin's thoughts are distracted, the new song he wants to show you by his favourite band occupying his mind. He's sure you'll like it - he's slowly converted you to a fan over the years.

Once the wires of the earphones are all straightened out, and he plugs them into his phone. The ear with a green sharpie heart is his side, the one with the blue is yours, a little faded from so many bus rides and time spent in bed sharing music together.

The bell on the door grabs his attention, and he looks up - and remembers. It wasn't you who he was meeting. This isn't your meeting place anymore. He feels guilty about being excited, more guilty about forgetting that he's supposedly moved on. Still, he grins painfully convincingly as she takes the seat across from him, as if this was what he had been expecting all along. He tries to figure out how he could have forgotten that this is how things are now, nodding as she is talking, although he doesn’t hear a word.

Yeonjun

Yeonjun doesn't know what day it is, what time it is. All he knows is his phone is ringing, dragging him from his much needed sleep. With a long groan he rolls toward the edge of the bed, not even daring to open his eyes and expose them to the bright light of the sun he can now see from behind his eyelids. Which means he hasn't looked at the caller ID. Which means he answers the way he normally would, half asleep and his brain not quite engaged. He answers with your name.

But it's not you. The voice that replies is so different from yours that it snaps him awake entirely. He is so disappointed he doesn't even panic, his voice so groggy he can play it off that she heard him wrong. After a short conversation, most of which he wasn't paying attention for, he throws the phone into the covers and wonders if he's made a big mistake by starting something new.

Beomgyu

He can't remember much about the dream, only your smile, your eyes, and your hand in his. Now he's awake, and the bed is familiarly warm, the sound of soft breathing behind him. He rolls over with a contened sigh, reaching arms out to pull you against his chest, pressing his nose into your hair. He feels a cheek nuzzle against his neck and all feels right with the world.

"Did you get a new shampoo?" he asks, voice rough with its first use of the day. He lazily pulls his head back and opens his eyes, and reality cracks down over his head like an egg when he sees her.

"No," comes her reply.

It's the first time she's stayed over, the first time anyone has stayed over but you. He was totally fine with it last night. Now it feels so gut wrenchingly wrong. Maybe he should wait a while longer before letting her stay again.

Taehyun

It's been a long, long day. Every muscle aches, and even his brain feels like a muscle with how tired he is. He drops his bag at the door and kicks off his shoes, the sofa calling to him longingly from across the room. The minute his back is on the soft cushion, he knows he'll fall asleep here, but he's not sure that he cares - he's fallen asleep worse places than this. Flicking on the TV, the first thing he sees is an ad about an upcoming movie, a remake of an old classic. He smiles.

"Hey babe," he calls out, "we should take your mom to see this, it's her favourite."

Hearing the familiar creak of the floorboards leading into the kitchen he glances up, and his smile falters. How could he have forgotten? She's looking at the screen with a confused expression, shaking her head. "No, it's not. I've never heard of it." She swings around to look at him now. "Have you even met my mom yet?"

He blinks, somehow feeling more drained than he was before. "Oh... I meant my mom."

Maybe he will go to bed after all.

Huening Kai

He's looking at the photos again, the ones in his phone that he keeps telling himself he'll delete. But every time he pulls them up to get rid of them, he finds he can't. He should, he knows he should, but it seems his head and his heart are at war.

He spends so long flicking through them, there are so many, accumulated over the years you spent together. He lands on his favourite; the two of you at the carnival. The memories the photo brings are so vivid, so precious, he swears he can remember every detail; the temperature of the air, the foods you ate, even the songs you listened to on the way home, car windows down and an impressive amount of sugar in your systems as you sang and bopped along. His mind replays the scene of the two of you on a ride, your laughter amidst the screams of other riders, clutching onto each other's arms for dear life, and how you almost dropped your phone as you reached out to capture the moment.

Kai forgets himself, forgets where he is right now, that this isn't your room he's lounging in, and a loud laugh bursts from him. When his joy filled eyes turn to meet hers, she is giving him an incredulous look over the top of her computer screen. He snaps out of it in an instant and tucks his phone away, apologising with a duck of his head. What is he going to do about those photos?

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

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mstigeress37-blog · 5 months

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BOXER! RAFE CAMERON X READER

ＳＵＭ．Rafe is a boxer, but his pretty girlfriend hasn’t showed up to his match yet, so where is she?

Notes. Fem! Reader/ She/Her pronouns used, violent description, fanon rafe lol.

▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Rafe was stressed.

It was his first time boxing in this particular ring in this particular place. He found the place with a bit of difficulty, driving wise, and since his girlfriend wasn’t here, he could only assume she had lost her way.

He bursts through the changing room door, eyes scanning for both his manager and his girlfriend, before setting them on Topper, his best friend.

“Yo, have you seen Y/N? She’s usually here by now.” He asks, scratching his recently buzzed hair after one of his fans tried to grab it post-fight.

Topper shakes his head, “Nah, man. I can go stand outside and keep a lookout for you, though?” He suggests. Rafe nods once, deep in thought and his eyebrows furrowed, before walking away, kissing his teeth and shaking his head in disappointment.

If she isn’t going to be here within the next hour, he’s gonna knock his opponent to the floor and keep hitting him until she shows up.

—————

The last time you didn’t/couldn’t make it to Rafe’s match was when you were grounded in High School after getting caught doing weed that Rafe gave you. You ended up having to sneak out with Sarah to bail him out. Sarah needed you since she knew Rafe was pissed and, as cheesy as it sounds, you the only person who was able to calm him down. Even thinking about the next that read, ‘Stuck in traffic! So sorry, baby!’ made him huff with anger.

But now, you’re adults. No ‘asking for permission but my dad said no’, no ‘You’re grounded so you can’t go.’ Nothing. Nada. So why was he behind the curtain doing the breathing technique you taught him all alone?

Rafe was pissed. Not at you, of course. But at the world. What cruel universe would keep you stuck in traffic? Or put the boxing ring so far away from you?

Before he could think anymore, he heard his name being introduced through the speakers, saw the curtains fly open, and started running to the ring, pissed as ever.

The two bump fists, and just before the ring goes off, Rafe can hear the man go, ‘missing your girlfriend, Rafe? D’y’need your mommyyyy?’ through his mouth guard, chuckling before hitting his own fists together.

The bell goes off, and it felt like permission to beat the ever living shit out of the pathetic excuse of a man in front of him.

Rafe pounces, his fists heavier than two seconds ago, and lands each punch to the other’s face and gut.

Some time passes, and his coach calls him over to his corner. Rafe has blood trickling down his nose and forehead. He feels like shit for a second before he glances over to his opponent and smirks, chuckling to himself.

He sits down, and through the music and loud cheering/booing, he hears you, and suddenly, his huffs are light-hearted and relieved exhales.

From the corner of his eye, he sees you pushing through, probably politely asking them to move, before you occasionally shout, ‘Rafe!’ And you don’t have to shout much or loudly, since Rafe’s head was turned the first time you yelled.

He sees your smile go wide as the two of you make eye contact before you glance to the side, looking at what Rafe did to his opponent.

The two guards let you past the gate that separates the ring and the audience since they know your face (since Rafe was shoving a picture of you in their faces asking if they had seen you despite their multiple ‘No!’s), and suddenly you’re running to Rafe’s corner, jumping up to hold onto the ropes.

“Rafe, baby! I’m so sorry, I got lost, then suddenly I was in traffic, then I was in the countryside?? I-I don’t know, but it’s okay, because-“

“-Because you’re here.” He finishes quietly. He doesn’t even need to raise his voice for you to hear him over all the clamouring of the audience and his team who are pouring water all over him.

“I don’t care if I landed in a cell again, because I knew you would have picked me up. I don’t care if they kicked me out of here, since I know you would get here eventually and give me a lecture as you took us home. I don’t care if you weren’t here before, because you’re here now.”

You feel emotional and give him a quick peck on the kiss, not knowing how much time he has left of his break. However, unsatisfied with such a small show of affection, he stands up from the stool, grabs your face, and kisses you lovingly.

“Alright, lover boy, get in there!!” His coach yells from his side. He pulls away gently, admires your face before giving you a quick peck on the nose, running back to the centre with a new found confidence and a swell of love in his heart.

You smile softly at the view of his back before his coach jumps down, helping you jump down too to sit at the chairs neatly lined up.

#rafe #rafe obx #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe fic #boxing #outer banks #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic #obx

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hbyrde36 · 7 months

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STWG Drabble 9/19/23

Prompt: “We’re not family”

“We’re not family!” Dustin spit the words in Steve’s face, looming over his hospital bed with a scowl.

Steve's heart sank. Oh no, not Dustin too. “But, you said I was like a brother to you.”

“Maybe at one point you were, but then you let Eddie die. How could you possibly think things could ever be the same after that?”

Had he done that? Was Eddie dead, and was it somehow his fault? He couldn’t remember, it must have been the pain meds clouding his mind. No wonder the kid was so upset.

“I’m sorry, Dustin, I'm so sorry. You know I would have done anything to save him if I could have. Please, you have to know that.” Steve begged. He had so few people in his life that really cared about him, and his heart was breaking at the thought that he’d ruined things with his pseudo little brother. He’d already been disowned by his parents after he didn’t get into college, what more could he take?

“You know what I think?” Dustin began, with a most unpleasant smile on his face. “I think you wanted him to die. I think you were so jealous of him, so afraid that he was going to take me away from ,that you’d do anything to get him out of the picture.”

“No, NO! That’s not true. I liked Eddie! I cared about him! I swear! Why would you…why are you saying these things to me?” Steve cried.

Dustin scoffed. “You're lucky I'm even standing here right now. What good are you to me like this? To us? Bedridden and broken. You can’t even protect these kids you supposedly love now. You’re worthless, Steve. Might as well throw in the towel.”

Steve tried desperately not to fall apart, but what reason did he have to hold himself together now if even Dustin didn't want anything to do with him anymore?

That’s when he heard a familiar voice start screaming his name in the distance. Nancy. She was calling out to him but it sounded like she was a million miles away. Suddenly, he realized that nothing around him made sense. He shouldn’t be in the hospital, and what had Dustin just said about Eddie? Eddie was fine the last time Steve saw him, not ten minutes ago! The last thing he remembered was climbing the stairs to the attic in the Creel house. Robin had just tripped over a vine, he was trying to get to her to help when another one had wrapped itself around his throat.

“You know she’s only trying to save you out of guilt, Steve. She doesn’t love you, she doesn’t even like you.” Dustin-not-Dustin said, his voice dropping lower with every word spoken.

Vecna.

Steve jumped out of the bed on the opposite side and ran for the door. He threw it open and sprinted down the hall. The hospital was a ghost town, which he figured made sense considering none of this was real.

He looked around as he ran, desperate to find a way out. Max had described a portal opening up when she’d escaped Vecna’s clutches in the graveyard, but she’d had the music to guide her then. He knew neither he, Robin, or Nancy had brought a walkman with them into the Upside-Down.

He kept running anyway, desperate to get as much space between himself and Vecna as possible while he tried to think. He wondered what had happened with Max. Had he not taken the bait, or was Max… already dead?

The thought made him want to give up. To just lie down on the floor, curl up in a little ball, and let that bastard take him too, but Robin would never forgive him if he gave up now. He pushed on, rushing past empty room, after empty room, finding nothing helpful or useful.

The feeling of hopelessness became overwhelming but just when he was again considering admitting defeat, the world around him dissolved and he was plunged into darkness.

He woke with a gasp in Robin’s arms. She was rocking him, tears spilling down her face.

“Oh my god, Steve, you’re back!” She cried, squeezing him tightly.

“Where’s Nance?” He asked.

“She’s up in the attic finishing Vecna off. When we couldn’t wake you, we went up there to start the attack, hoping it would force him to let you go. Nancy thinks he was trying to get you and Max at the same time, and it left him too distracted and vulnerable. We got him Steve, it’s over.”

He sagged in relief. Vecna was dead. He was okay, it sounded like Max probably was too. That’s when he remembered what Dustin/Vecna had said about Eddie, and his blood ran cold.

Steve pushed himself out of Robin’s arms and to his feet, quickly grabbing his axe from where it had fallen. He flew down the stairs taking them two at a time and praying he wasn’t too late.

“Where are you going?” Robin shouted at his back.

He paused for only a second to explain. “I think Eddie and Dustin are in trouble, wait here for Nance and meet me back at the trailer!”

He found Eddie kneeling on the ground surrounded by dozens of dead demobats. His spear and shield had been tossed to the ground. He was breathing heavily, hands pressed tightly to a wound on his side. He was hurt, he was bleeding, but he was alive.

Steve started stripping out of his jacket as he approached. He tugged the t-shirt over his head and ripped it, trying to create bandages the same way Nancy had.

Eddie stared up at him with wide eyes. “Am I dead?”

“No.”

Steve pulled Eddie's hands away from the wound and pulled the shirt up so he could get a better look at it. It was pretty bad, but it wasn’t gushing. If they wrapped it tight, and got him to a hospital quickly, Eddie would be just fine.

“Are you sure? Because the way you just stripped out of those clothes for me is definitely making me feel like I've died and gone to heaven, big boy.”

Steve blushed hard. It was just the blood-loss, he reasoned. Eddie didn’t know what he was saying, so he ignored it.

“You’re gonna be fine, Eddie. Hold that shirt up for me so I can wrap this.”

Eddie did as he was asked, but his gaze never wavered from Steve’s chest. He was pretty sure he even caught the other boy licking his lips at one point, and it definitely didn’t cause warmth to start pooling in his stomach.

Steve fought hard to concentrate on his work, but he had a feeling that as soon as this was over he was going to need an emergency bathroom floor meeting with Robin.

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie drabble #steddie ficlet #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fanfic

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taytrashmouth · 8 months

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Just finished rewatching game of thrones and the Jon snow obsession has been reborn.

This is a long one!

TW: rape, abuse, crying, murder, etc, all normal GOT stuff.

Jon snow x reader.

:readmore:

Looking at the empty walls of the stone cell I’ve been trapped in for weeks I can’t help but feel that these walls of winterfell that I’ve known for so long are no longer the walls I call home. This is a prison.

I pushed myself back against the furthest wall as I heard the keys rattle in the door. The chain around my waist felt heavier than normal.

As the door opened I felt a tear escape my eye…Ramsey

“You’re not excited to see me?” He pouted and wiped my cheek.

I tried to hide my fear and pain and sadness but I knew he could see through my act.

“I’m going to meet with lady Bolton tomorrow.” He sat down in front of me.

I thought about Sansa….I thought about when we were little, how we would sneak into the kitchens after everyone was asleep, how we’d laugh and talk, how we would dance in the snow outside and go for long walks in the snowy hills. She was bigger now, more mature. The last time I saw her was at the wedding…she got locked in Ramseys room and I got locked in a cell. I heard people talk of her escape through the small widow towards the top of my cell, I’d never been that relieved in my life.

Sansa never treated me as her handmaiden, only ever as her friend.

“Her bastard brother will be there too…” Ramsey spoke.

I couldn’t help my reaction, I let out a gasp and tears fell from my eyes.

Jon was alive.

“I want you to come with me to meet with them tomorrow…”

I looked up at him and frowned, there was a catch, Ramsey was insane, he liked to play games.

“You see… I know that Jon cares for you…and lovers should always be reunited at the end of every story.” Ramsey smiled as he touched my cheek, I tried to move away but he held me still.

“But I’m afraid this story doesn’t have a happy ending…” he pouted. “Jon will have to see what I’ve done with you.” Now he smiled.

He began to untie my dress, I tried to move away but he held me down and the chains were too heavy. After not being fed for a week I could barely have the strength to push him off.

He grabbed my hands and held them high above my head as he sucked hickeys into my neck, and put bite marks all over my skin.

Eventually I stopped screaming, I just accepted him inside of me, I cried and looked away, knowing there was nothing I could do. I thought of everything that wasn’t Ramsey. Then eventually I didn’t think of anything at all, I didn’t even feel as though I was in the room anymore. I was somewhere deep inside my own mind, somewhere I couldn’t even place.

I felt Ramsey hit me and become rough but I just lay there in the cold cell…hopeless.

When he was done he had his guards unlock the chains around my waist and wrists, and lead me to a room in the castle….Aryas old room.

They locked me in there for the rest of the night I had a bath and scrubbed my skin till it was raw and red trying to get Ramsey off of me…

I put on the dress that was laid out on the bed, it showed off my shoulders and my sides, exposing the bruises and scrapes all over my body. I brushed my hair that had grown a lot since I last saw myself. I tied it back into a braid exposing my face and neck like Ramsay instructed

I looked at my thin figure, I could see my own ribs. I looked awful. I drank the soup that was left on top of the dresser.

And I waited…to see Jon again, to see Sansa.

I walked out of the dining hall to see Jon hitting a training dummy repeatedly with his sword.

“I think it’s dead.” I smiled as he turned around.

He smiled softly, something he didn’t do often. “What am I missing?” He asked gesturing back into the hall

“Ned’s angry because Arya flicked food at Sansa.” I spoke. He laughed under his breath. “So nothing new?” He smirked.

I shook my head.

It was quiet for a moment, the music from inside distant. The air was cold.

I had liked Jon since I was about 10, he often caught Sansa and I in the kitchens late at night and instead of telling Ned, like Robb sometimes did, he would join us.

But I’d never say anything, I couldn’t…technically he was a stark, and technically I was a prisoner, a Greyjoy. Although the starks had never made me feel like a prisoner.

“Why so frustrated?” I asked him.

He looked down at his sword and the blisters he’d caused on his hand.

“A lot on my mind, my lady.” He replied.

“I am no lady….just a handmaiden, My lord.” I spoke back, knowing he only ever wanted me to call him Jon.

He smiled to himself. “Just Jon.”

“Okay….just Jon, may I have this dance.” I asked as the band began to play another song that could be heard vaguely through the closed doors to the dining hall.

“Anything for you, princess.” He spoke slowly and made his way over to you. Putting his sword against the stone walls of winterfell.

“I am no-“ you were interrupted when his finger pressed to your lips. “You are to me.” He whispered.

He valued me, always. He never treated me like less, in fact he always treated me like more, like royalty, like a princess.

I smiled up at him. He placed his hands on my waist and i put mine on his shoulders.

“I must warn you, just Jon I’m not a good dancer.” I spoke.

“I know, I’ve watched you dance with sir Cedric Mormont a few years back, and sir Jamie earlier tonight.”

I playfully smacked his arm and he smiled.

“I’ll tell you what princess y/n Greyjoy…I’m not that good either.” He smiled.

We swayed and laughed when Jon jokingly spun me around, or when I tried to lead. We ran around the castle walls for about 3 hours before lady Katlin caught us.

We both froze when she saw us.

“Sansa was looking for you y/n.” She spoke firmly. Glaring at Jon.

“My lady- I-“ you stumbled.

“It was me! I wanted to try on Robb’s armor, see what it was like, to be a knight. I had lady Greyjoy assist me putting it on-“ Jon interrupted. He never lied, but he was protecting me.

I glanced worriedly at him.

“Typical.” She whispered under her breath, and shook her head. My blood boiled. “Y/n get to Sansa’s chambers immediately, Jon… out of my sight.” She spoke loudly.

I quickly walked off to Sansa’s bed chamber, thinking about Jon the whole way there.

“Where we’re you?” Sansa spoke.

“I’m sorry, I-I was with Jon.” I blushed.

She squealed. “Tell me everything.” She spoke, handing me her hairbrush as she sat down at the dresser.

It was like having a permanent best friend, I was only two years older than Sansa.

I carefully undid the intricate braids in her hair and brushed her copper locks.

“We danced…sort of.” I smiled.

“Was he any good?” She frowned.

“No.” We both laughed.

We giggled and spoke until she had to go to bed. Laughing about Jon and how she was to marry prince Joffrey.

You walked along the empty passages towards the servants quarters. Through the snow covered courtyard.

I was pulled from the happy memory when the lock to the chamber rattled and Ramsey and two of his guards entered.

I dropped the soup onto the floor, my hands must have been shaking.

“Oh clumsy are we? You’ll need a new dress I suppose.” Ramsey pouted.

Tears filled my eyes.

“Luckily I have the perfect one for you.” He smirked and held out some purple material…open back.

He wanted Jon to see my pain, to see that I belonged to him. I shook my head and tears fell from my eyes.

His guards grabbed my wrists and shoved me onto the bed, i sobbed when they began to tie my hands to the headboard. They ripped away the gown I was wearing and I could no longer see Ramsey, and that scared me more than anything.

“This will hurt darling.” I could hear the smile in his voice. And I screamed and sobbed as a hard whip hit my back, digging into my spine, I felt blood pour down my back.

It hurt again and again, 20 times he hit me, 20 times I screamed and 20 times I did not prey for help, I wished for death.

He left me tied there, facing the wall, bleeding.

I cried for a long time until I fell asleep from exhaustion. Naked and beaten.

The morning was a rush, Bran had fallen from the tallest tower and hadn’t woken up. Lady Katlin was devastated and Ned had informed Sansa and I we were leaving for kings landing tomorrow. He had been offered the position of hand of the king.

He also informed me that Jon was to become a man of the nights watch.

I walked as fast as I could to his room, my dress blowing behind me in the wind. I tried desperately not to cry.

I shoved his door open and there he was packing his things.

As he turned to me I slapped him, hard.

“Were you not going to tell me!” I yelled, the tears began to fall.

He swallowed hard and looked down, and then at me…my face.

“I didn’t know how-“

“Lies!” I screamed, tears falling like snowflakes.

“I love you! And I didn’t know how to say goodbye to the one thing! The one good thing in my life! The only thing that matters!” He yelled too now.

You cried harder.

“You are the only thing keeping me from going! But I can’t love you, n/n….I can’t! I’m a bastard, and I refuse to force you to burden that name too. You are going to king’s landing tomorrow, you’ll meet a Duke of something there and you’ll grow old in a castle, and have beautiful daughters and strong sons.” Jon was crying too, he held my shoulders.

“No-“ I shook my head. “I don’t want that…. I love you Jon snow. I will never love anyone else. I want to run away with you, I want to carry your children, I want to grow old with you!” I sobbed.

He shook his head, and pressed his forehead to mine.

“I don’t care if you’re a bastard- it’s a stupid title. Like king or queen it’s just a name. But you’re so much more than that you’re brave and kind, loving, you’re funny and smart and-“ he kissed me, gently but passionately.

For a moment everything made sense. All the stars aligned and the puzzle fit together beautifully.

But then I pulled away.

“I love you.” We stated at the same time, we both laughed lightly.

There was a heavy silence after that. I knew I had to go to kings landing, and he knew he had to go to the wall, to make something of himself.

“Promise me.” I spoke slowly as he held my cheeks. “Promise me when I see you again you’ll kiss me, like you just did, promise me that someday we’ll grow old together. Promise me-“ I choked and he kissed my forehead. “Promise that I’ll see you again.”

He nodded. “I promise.” He knelt to the floor and kissed my hand, “ I promise I’ll come back for my princess.” He spoke.

I smiled through the tears as he stood.

“Promise you’ll write to me…every day.” He whispered as we hugged. I nodded.

“Promise you’ll write back.” He chuckled and nodded against my head.

That was goodbye.

I rode with Ramsey on his horse, my back aching and my lips blue. I was freezing in the revealing dress. Bruises, gashes, hickeys, scars and deep wounds covered my body.

We stopped after a long ride. I saw horses approaching in the distance. My heart sunk, I didn’t want Jon to see me like this. What if he had moved on.

I must have looked terrible because Sansa took in a sharp breath before demanding my release. There he was, Jon…my Jon.

I almost smiled when I saw him, almost.

He looked older, a fuller beard and darker eyes, he was taller. He was handsome.

He looked devastated when he saw me. I looked down at the floor, not seeing the tears fill his eyes.

They debated the war that was to come, tomorrow. And Rickons release.

I began to shiver.

“Give her a coat she’ll freeze!” Jon yelled. His voice was husky and sad. I looked at the anger on his face.

Ramsey smiled.

“Jon don’t-“ I tried to explain it was just one of his games but Ramsey hit me, across the cheek.

Jon’s horse jerked forward as he drew his sword but his men held him back.

And then we rode away, at the perfect angle for Jon to see my back.

Ramsey threw me back into my cell, I cried…I didn’t want Jon to fight- I feared Ramsey would win.

I felt my heart sink…I had imagined seeing him again for so many years and it broke me to know that might’ve been the last time.

Last I saw him he was 16, only a boy. I was 15, a young girl who knew nothing of the world outside winterfell.

I knew not of vicious fighters like sir clegane or horrible woman like Cersei. I wouldn’t have imagined such an unfair ruler as Joffrey. Or such an abusive leader as Ramsey.

I wouldn’t have ever imagined seeing Theon like that….like reek. Ramsey told me he’d to the same to me if I disobeyed him. Another Greyjoy to his collection.

I hadn’t looked death in the eye the last time i saw Jon and yet now I had seen so much of it, it all seemed insignificant.

I heard of Jon’s battles, I even heard of his death. Seeing him again was like seeing a ghost. I wasn’t the same girl he left at winterfell but I had the same heart.

“You’re going to take someone’s eye out.” I smiled across the courtyard as I saw Jon and Robb attempting to sword fight in the snow, they kept slipping on the ice.

“That’s the point my lady.” Robb smiled.

“It’s not that simple.” Jon huffed.

“Can I have a go.” I asked gesturing to their swords.

They both chuckled until they realized I was serious.

“The arena is no place for a lady.” Robb spoke, he looked a bit sympathetic though.

I frowned.

Jon was about to speak until Theon called them to lunch.

That evening when I was lying on my bed I felt something shake me awake.

“Jon?” I frowned in the dark. He nodded.

“Come on.” He pulled me out of bed.

“Where are we going?” I asked but he shhhhed me.

“You’ll see, it’s a surprise.” He whispered.

He dragged me out to the courtyard, where he lit a bunch of candles.

I smiled.

“Jon it’s beautiful.”

“Like you.” He responded, both our cheeks flushed.

“You sure you’re ready?” He asked me, changing the subject.

“For?”

“You’re greatest opponent.” He smiled and threw me a sword which landed on the floor in front of me. I smiled.

“Thank you.” I looked at him. He nodded.

He spent the rest of the night trying to teach me how to fight, and by 4AM I could have a basic spar with him.

He quickly blew out all the candles and lead me back to my chambers.

“Was I any good?” I asked.

He nodded as we walked.

“Are you just saying that?” I asked again.

He smiled. “You were better than Theon let’s put it that way.”

I smiled.

Ramsey chained me up and dragged me outside of winterfell with Rickon. We both got a bad hit when I hugged him, I was so relieved he was alright.

I watched as Ramsey explained the rules of his stupid little trick, how rickon had to run across the field to Jon. It was too easy. There was a catch.

I watched as he began to run and I watched Ramseys men began to load their crossbows.

I began to scream. “Nooo! Stop!” I screamed and they hit me, but I didn’t stop, I had to warn him.

Jon began to ride towards his brother… holding out his hand. But there it was, another stark gone.

My own scream was silent in my ears, I couldn’t hear anything as I watched him fall to the floor.

I sobbed. I watched Jon loose his horse and begin to take on an entire army by himself. I screamed again.

I felt Ramsey pull at my chains and drag me back to winterfell. Leaving the battle of the bastards. His war that he wasn’t even fighting.

Leaving the carnage. He took me to the courtyard. He put me on the execution platform and tied a rope around my neck. He explained how if Jon came to save me, the floor would disappear and so would I.

I waited, I saw the bodies pile up through the windows in the castle walls. I watched the giant break down winterfells gates. I smiled and cried when I saw him….just Jon.

“You’re too late.” Ramsey smiled and pointed at me. Jon’s face dropped he was covered in blood.

“No!” I yelled as I watched one of Ramseys men move to pull the lever.

Jon began to run towards me, as a red haired man threw an axe at the soldier. It killed him as he pulled the switch. I closed my eyes and took in a sharp breath.

I opened my eyes, Jon had caught me. I smiled as a tear ran down my cheek. He looked at me, examining my face.

His red hair friend cut the rope and jon put me down.

Ramsey began to load his crossbow.

“Jon.” I said and pointed at Ramsey.

His hands left my hips, and I almost missed his touch.

He used some debris as a shield as Ramsey fired arrows at him, he grew closer and closer to him.

I watched as Jon beat him up. A part of me liked that Ramsey would die here, today. A part of me knew it was wrong.

“Stop!” I let out. Jon looked at me and then at Sansa, still punching. And he did, he stopped.

He walked off into winterfell.

I ran across the courtyard to Sansa and we held each other. Tight.

“Are you okay?” I asked her. She laughed.

“Are you?” She scoffed.

We quickly decided Ramsey should be reunited with his pets. He didn’t deserve to live. Not even as a prisoner.

Later that evening I found myself in Aryas old bed chambers attempting to stitch up some of my cuts. I heard a knock at the door and looked up.

Jon.

“Hello.” I spoke.

“Hi.”

I slowly stood up.

It wasn’t long before his lips were on mine. We kissed for a long time, passionately. A kiss that made up for all our time lost.

We pulled away breathless, both crying.

“You stopped writing letters.” I spoke, he smiled.

“You stopped writing back.” He answered.

He hugged me, gently. I hugged him back as tightly as I could.

“You’re taller.” I smiled.

“You’re shorter.”

We both laughed.

He sat me on the bed and helped me stitch up my wounds. He held my hand tightly as he poured alcohol on my back.

We spent hours catching up.

We both sat on the end of the bed, my head on his shoulder.

“I thought you were dead.” I told him. “Twice.”

He chuckled. “You gave me a few scares too.”

“How was the wall?”

“Cold.” He looked down at me. I laughed.

“Is it true? The whitewalkers?” I asked more seriously now.

He sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“I’ve fought them, they’re too strong. I fear we won’t win this battle. But I’ll make sure you’re as far south as south goes-“

“No!” I interrupted, shaking my head.

Tears brimmed in his waterline.

“I’m not leaving again….I just got you back. We’re going to grow old together, remember?” My voice broke. “Even if you’ve found someone else-“

“There’s no one else.” He brushed his hand over my cheek.

“If you fight, I’ll fight.” I spoke.

“You did have a really good teacher.” He stated. I playfully nudged him as he smiled.

“I love you…just Jon, I always have.” I finished.

“I love you too, princess y/n Greyjoy.” He kissed me again gently.

“Snow.” I corrected and he frowned. “Queen y/n snow.”

A smile took over his whole face.

“If you’ll have me, that is? King Jon snow.”

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