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the-travelling-witch · 10 months

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𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋

summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in the devildom doesn't make it any better; luckily, these demons are here to help

pairings: mammon :: belphegor :: barbatos x reader

warnings: period-having reader (gn pronouns), blood, mild cramps

a/n: this is literally so self-indulgent, as everything i write is, but whenever i'm on my period thinking of scenarios like this helps me sit through cramps, so i thought i'd share the nonesense with you ♡

obey me masterlist || similar writing: twisted pains [twst]

𝐌𝐀𝐌𝐌𝐎𝐍

“Human! Open ya damn door!”

“No, please let me die in peace,” you whined from underneath your blankets as the banging against your door continued.

“If ya don’t let me in right now, I’ll kick it down, ya hear me?!” You could practically see Mammon pacing a ridge into the floor in front of your room, so you trudged over there and unlocked it, the demon almost colliding with you from how quickly he opened the door. His snow-white hair was sticking up from his head as if he’d run his hands through it without noticing. “What’s the big deal makin’ me wait so damn long, huh?”

“I told you I’m trying to pass away from this life,” you deadpanned, trudging back to your bed, groaning as another cramp twisted your lower stomach. “First, I have to deal with this shit in a house full of male demons who are absolutely not prepared to handle a human exchange student on their period. And second-“

You paused, for both dramatic flair and to take a calming breath. Then, you turned around and gave Mammon a saccharine smile dipping pure venom.

“I find out that apparently the entire Devildom can smell that I’m on my period if I step a foot out the bloody door.”

“Listen, I’m sorry.” Mammon held up his hands to plead his innocence. “I didn’t mean ta be so rude about it. But in my defence, I didn’t know it’s a normal thing for humans to just start bleedin’. I thought ya were dyin’!”

You painfully remembered how you had dragged yourself out of your room this morning, after luckily finding some hygiene products in the bag you had with you when you were whisked away to the Devildom unannounced (thank the sky guy you threw them into literally every bag and purse you owned). Already in a bad mood, you’d plopped down into your designated seat, ready to fight for your breakfast, only to feel six pairs of eyes on you.

“What?” You had asked, when nobody passed you the bread basket.

That had been when Mammon, eyes as wide as the coaster under your mug, almost jump-scared you into dropping your butter knife.

“WHY ARE YA BLEEDIN’?!” He’d already pulled you from your chair and started inspecting you for any signs of injuries, tugging your arms up and inspecting your head. “Are ya hurt anywhere?”

“Mammon, I’m fine. You can let go of me now.” You almost had to wrestle your arm back from him, heat already creeping up your cheeks.

“Clearly yer not!”

Exhaling deeply you said through gritted teeth “I’m on my period, if you have to know.”

The demons around the table had exchanged glances, but sadly only three of them had held a spark of understanding, those being Satan, Levi and Asmodeus. Mammon and Beel on the other hand seemed more lost (well, Beel actually had his eyes on his food but that was beside the point) and Lucifer’s face had been unreadable.

“Woah, periods are an actual thing?” Levi had asked incredulously, his voice somewhere between shock and awe. “I thought anime made those up for the sake of the plot.”

“I see,” Satan had given you hope. “I‘ve read about those before in some books on human anatomy but I didn’t think it was a big deal, seeing as it wasn’t talked about much.”

“Satan, pray tell, from when were those books?”

“The 18th century perhaps?” He shrugged, tilting his head.

“Well, that explains a lot,” you had sighed, whereas Asmo had just dropped his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry about them, hon. But demons don’t experience periods, so I doubt any of them will be much help,” he had squeezed your hand sympathetically.

Lucifer had cleared his throat then. “Well, it appears that we have some catching up to do, now that we are hosting a human exchange student. Given your…predicament, you are allowed to stay home from RAD as long as this affects you.”

You had sighed a breath of relief.

“In exchange, however,” Lucifer had continued, making you dread the next words to leave his mouth, “it will fall to you that my brothers are properly educated on how to handle this side of humanity.”

So, that afternoon, you had found yourself in the common room, holding a presentation on the menstrual cycle in front of the brothers… and the future demon king himself. Yes, of course, Diavolo had gotten wind of your situation and simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to learn more about humans. At least, him being in the know meant you’d never have to worry about getting period products imported to the Devildom ever again.

Subsequently, you had locked yourself in your room, curled up under a blanket as you scrolled through Devilgram trying to forget this whole ordeal happened. A good hour later, Mammon had started pounding against your door like a madman.

With him standing in your room now, you could see the bag he was holding as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. Sitting on the edge of your bed, you patted the spot next to you.

“I’ll forgive you. It would have been more embarrassing if I went to RAD without knowing,” you said placatingly. “Anyways, what’s that?”

“Oh, it’s nothin’…” Mammon trailed off, looking anywhere but you as he rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s just… Ya were sayin’ this stuff could help and we didn’t have any, so I went and got some for ya… Only because Lucifer would string me from the ceiling if ya went and complained! That’s all!”

Taking the plastic bag from him, you peered inside to see various types of human world painkillers, a hot water bottle and chocolates. Despite what the demon had just said, you noted that the chocolate brand he bought was the one you liked best, something you had only dropped in a passing sentence when you talked to Asmo about a new trending dessert.

“Thank you, Mammon,” you smiled genuinely. “That actually is really helpful.”

“Really?” He managed to suppress his grin before it curled further than the corner of his lips before clearing his throat and hiding half his face behind his hand. “I mean, I’m only doin’ ma job, ya know? So Lucifer gives me back Goldie!”

“Sure you are,” you laughed, the first time since your day started. “Does your job also involve staying with me and watching a movie?”

“Yeah!” This time he was too late to hide his excitement, then he caught himself and tried again, calmer this time. “I uh- I could fit ya in my super busy schedule. Gotta make sure ya don’t die after all, huh?”

𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐑

What a horrible way to start your day.

Well, under other circumstances, it would’ve been near perfect. Waking up snuggled comfortably in your boyfriend’s tight hold as he lightly snored into the crook of your neck, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

If it wasn’t for the unpleasant twisting of your lower stomach you might have turned around and slept the morning away. Still slightly groggy, you sat up in bed, hoping dearly it was just a fleeting stomach ache or hunger and not your period, despite the clear symptoms.

All hope was shattered however, when you shifted and you knew instantly that you could kiss this pair of underwear goodbye. With some effort, you wriggled out of Belphie’s vice grip, looking back at the sleepy demon as he groaned in protest only to see a large blood stain where you’d just lain. At your shocked gasp echoing around the attic, you watched his brows knit together and his nose wriggle, his forehead creasing as if he was deep in thought. Then, he blinked his eyes open.

“What’s—“ he cut himself off with a yawn, “What’s wrong? Are you alright? What are you doing over there?”

“Belphie… I’m so sorry,” you nearly sobbed, guilt bubbling up in you. In combination with your hormones being all over the place and your still sleep-addled mind, tears were threatening to form along your waterline.

In a heartbeat, the Avatar of Sloth was up and next to you, pulling you into a hug and bringing your head to rest against his shoulder, one hand smoothing over your hair, the other holding you close by the waist. You’d never seen him move this fast this early in the morning.

“Hey, hey, what’s up?” He gently prodded, voice still raspy with sleep but soft nonetheless. “Please talk to me, starlight.”

“It’s— Your sheets, I’m so sorry… I didn’t know…” You buried your face deeper in the fabric draping over his chest as you felt him turn his head towards the bed. Then, a beat of silence spanned across the attic.

“That’s what you’re fussing about?”

“Yeah, I mean—“ Collecting your thoughts, you began again. “It’s gross and a pain to clean. I really should’ve known that—“

“Hey, look at me.” Tilting your face towards his, your eyes met amethyst ones as you followed the guidance of his fingers underneath your chin. “It’s not gross, you hear me? No part of you could ever be.”

“But the blood-“

“I’m a demon, might I remind you. You’d think I can handle a little blood.” There was a caring seriousness in his gaze that made you weak in the knees, the love and adoration you found swirling within almost making you cry for a whole other reason. “You didn’t actually think I’d be mad at you about something so natural, did you?”

“It’s generally a bit of a taboo topic and conversations about it can be quite stigmatised, so…,” you shrugged.

“You’re telling me half the population go through this every month and the topic is hushed up anyway? You’re already stressed enough and people give you crap for something like this?” You nodded at his incredulous tone. “Well that’s just stupid.”

For a moment, Belphie just held you, his fingers tracing random shapes into your hip. Then, he pulled you towards a dresser in the corner of the room, never letting go of you completely.

With how much time you had started spending in the attic it was a somewhat natural course of nature that your clothes would gradually end up moving here as well. Pulling out a fresh pair of underwear and a pair of black sweatpants, you didn’t have time to reach for a sweater before a soft pile of fabric was already pushed into your hands. Upon closer inspection, you identified it to be one of Belphie’s hoodies.

“I know you like wearing them,” he merely shrugged off your raised eyebrow. “Now go and take your time washing up, but make sure to come back straight away when you’re done.”

Practically herding you out of the door, you almost had to snort at the irony of the Avatar of Sloth encouraging you to do something you might not have had the energy to otherwise. But you were incredibly thankful for it because when the shower’s warm water hit you, you noticed how much you needed this, feeling born anew after scrubbing your skin clean.

Climbing back up the stairs to the attic, you already felt a lot calmer than when you had woken up, swaddled in Belphie’s cloud-like hoodie (seriously, where did he find fabric like that?) and surrounded by a mixture of his scent and your body wash.

When you pushed open the attic door, you blinked at the new set of sheets Belphie was lounging on, the old ones nowhere to be seen. Even without you moving, the demon perked up at your presence, extending one arm to coax you back into bed.

“What are you still doing over there? Come here,” he said, voice already drowsy again. “There’s still some morning left to be slept away.”

Who were you to refuse? Sliding under the covers next to him, you turned and twisted into whatever pretzel position made you cramp the least before two strong arms wrapped around you. This was another perk of being with Belphie; if anyone could accommodate weird sleeping positions, it was him.

Warm hands found their way under his hoodie, his palms pressed flatly against your lower back where most of your pain was coming from, while the hips of his fingers slowly caressed the surrounding skin.

“Feeling better?” He mumbled into the crown of your head.

“Mhm, much better,” you breathed into the crook of his neck, sighing as his natural body heat slowly eased some of the constant pressure in both your lower stomach and back. “How did you know about the back pain though?”

“You always complain about it, especially on the first day,” he replied nonchalantly, as if it was the most natural thing to know.

“How did I get so lucky,” you mused, your tone playful but just as genuine. “Makes me feel even worse about ruining your sheets.”

“Literally don’t worry about it, you do too much of that anyway. I left them with Asmo, he knows how to get just about any stain out of stuff.” You tried not to think about the specifics of where that expertise came from, so you rolled your eyes at the very typical behaviour of the youngest to dump his work on his brothers. Then you stiffened. Work. Chores. You were on grocery shopping duty today. “What’s the matter now?”

“I have to go out soon and get everything we need for dinner,” you sighed. Maybe you could convince someone to trade it with an indoor chore for the week.

Before you could reach for your D.D.D, the arms around you held you a little closer to the demon you were snuggled up against, one of his legs draping over your thigh, careful not to put too much pressure on you as he tangled your legs with his.

“Well that’s too bad,” Belphie mumbled into your hair, pressing a lingering kiss to the top of your head. “Looks like Lucifer has to find someone else for the job. Because you’ll be busy all day.”

𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒

Periods had the annoying habit of showing up whenever they pleased, which mostly meant whenever it was most inconvenient for you. Being well aware of that fact didn’t mean you were any more prepared for it to happen, though.

So, as you were running errands around RAD with Barbatos, it suddenly felt like your insides were squeezed together and wrung out like a washcloth, making you stagger and pause to steady yourself again. When your companion turned to ask if you were alright, you assured him everything was fine, hoping it was just one bad cramp that would ebb away soon.

But over the course of the next fifteen minutes, it progressively got worse and you had trouble focusing on the task at hand, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as you sorted through student council documents. As you reached for a new stack of files, gloved hands came to rest over yours, preventing you from picking up more work.

“You should not overexert yourself, dear,” a soft voice spoke close to your ear. On other occasions, you would have welcomed the way his hands smoothed down your shoulders when it was just the two of you for once, but you couldn’t think about anything but the pain you were experiencing. “Without meaning to offend, you’re looking rather unwell. Allow me to take you to the Demon Lord’s Castle.”

“What about work?” You mumbled but didn’t resist as he pulled you to your feet, steadying you with a hand between your shoulder blades. “And Diavolo?”

“Do not worry about that. There’s no rush to complete these files and the Young Master has given the explicit order for me to take care of you,” Barbatos smiled as he led you out of RAD, careful to avoid as much unwanted attention as possible. “An order I was all too happy to comply with, might I add.”

“So you knew,” you sighed with a smile, not actually too surprised at the revelation. “I did think it was suspicious to have you all to myself the entire day. Do I even have to ask how you knew?”

“Well, as you have come to learn, demons are far more perceptive to certain reactions of the body, hormonal changes included,” he explained matter of factly. “Aside from that, however, I have also made it a priority to learn the rhythm of your body to best care for you.”

“You track my cycle? Despite being so busy already?” You turn your head to look at him in surprise.

“Of course. Not only are you an honoured exchange student, you are also someone who is immensely important to me,” he said as he held the castle door open for you, his verdant gaze full of adoration. “Naturally, I aim to ease your strains and alleviate some of the burden you carry.”

“You really don’t have to—“

“But I want to.” Taking your hand in his, the fabric of his gloves soft against your skin, he brushed your knuckles with a featherlight kiss. “Please allow me to take care of you, my love.”

“I guess I can’t say no when you ask like that,” you laughed sheepishly. Your body seemingly agreed with you as it sent another wave of cramps to make your knees buckle.

“You must be exhausted,” Barbatos said, no doubt picking up on your unease immediately. “Let me draw you a warm bath to ease some of your tension.”

Said, done. Soon thereafter, you were sinking into a tub that probably cost more than a normal person’s house, the water the absolute perfect temperature to relax your muscles. You also noted how there were no strong scents present, only the hint of something floral and calming, but not overwhelmingly so.

After some time of soaking in the bath and with your permission, Barbatos stepped back into the bathroom. First, he wrapped you in the fluffiest black towel, carefully patting your skin dry so as to not irritate it. Then, he applied a moisturising lotion, gently kneading out any knots in your legs and shoulders with his skilled fingers before helping you into a new set of clothes which felt light as feathers against your skin.

He also showed you where to find any sort of hygiene product you might need and, to nobody’s surprise, somebody had stocked the guest bathroom you used whenever you came over with every possible product there was.

In your guest room, Barbatos guided you over to the sofa and lounge chairs underneath one of the high windows where a tea set was already waiting for you on the table in the middle.

“I took the liberty to prepare some tea and a few pastries while you were bathing. This blend has soothing qualities and is known to help with cramping. Given your usual choice of tea, I also think the aroma will be to your taste,” the demon explained and, as always, you were stunned by his level of attention to detail.

As he poured it, you noticed, however, that there was only one cup on the table and instead of getting one for himself, Barbatos went to fetch a hot water bottle.

Wrapping it in a cloth he warned you to be careful not to burn yourself before announcing he’d start preparations for dinner, letting you know he’d be making your favourite. But before he could turn to leave, you caught his wrist, a surprised expression flitting over his face for just a second.

“If it’s not too much trouble,” you started, holding his gaze, “would you join me for tea? It’s been a while since we sat down together.”

At your request his face smoothed over into a fond smile, the hand in your grasp coming up to brush over your cheekbone.

“I suppose dinner can wait a little longer,” he said, clearly as happy as you to spend time with you. “Then again, even if it couldn’t, I’d find it hard to leave you. Especially when your wish and mine are so closely intertwined.”

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

#┊holly’s potions ೃ༄#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me fluff #obey me comfort #mammon x reader #belphegor x reader #belphie x reader #barbatos x reader #mammon fluff #belphie fluff #belphegor fluff #obey me mammon #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me barbatos

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blue-blue-blooms · 24 days

Text

A Little Crush

Eddie Munson x Henderson!Reader

Part 1

Summary: In which Eddie develops a crush on the Henderson sister.

You weren't sure exactly when your life had gone to absolute shit. Was it when you found a strange, superpowered adolescent girl living in Mike Wheeler's basement? Was it when you walked in on a baby demogorgan eating your cat? Or was it when you were drugged by evil Russians operating under Starcourt Mall? You couldn't even remember a time when life was normal. If someone had told you that you would become best friends with Steve 'The Hair' Harrington and fight literal monsters from an alternate universe alongside Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan 'The Creep' Byers a few years ago, you would've laughed in their face. Now? You'd survived the most traumatising events of your life alongside these people. You were bonded for life.

The last few years had also made you closer with Dustin. You loved your baby brother and his weird friends, especially since you'd spent so much time babysitting them. But no amount of love could make you say yes to what they were asking of you.

"Please?" Dustin begged, following you down the hallway as you made your way to Ms. O'Connell's class.

"No! I have, like, three essays due this week, Dustin. I don't have the time to sub." You respond.

"It's only for tonight! Lucas can't make it and we really need a sub. We're nearly done with the campaign and Eddie will kill us if we make him reschedule!" Dustin pleads.

You were really happy that Dustin and Mike had found a safe space in high school. Lord knows those two idiots needed it. Freshmen year is probably the toughest of them all. You're new, scared, and lonely. You were really glad that they'd found friends, a place where they could be their nerdy selves and feel accepted. Hell, even you'd dabbled in their interests when you'd babysat them. DnD wasn't half bad, and not nearly as hard to undertand as you once thought. You'd spent many nights in Mike's basement playing with them. The first few times, you'd get your character killed in the first fifteen minutes. But after a while, you started making progress (even though you're convinced that the party was exceptionally lenient with you after you once burst into tears over getting killed off).

"I'll do your half of the chores for a week!" Dustin exclaims.

That makes you stop.

"A week?" You turn around to look at him, "Make it two weeks and I'll sub."

"Two? Are you insane!?" Dustin yells, making a few people lingering in the hallway turn and look at you both.

"Two or no deal, Dusty Buns," You tease, "And be quick, I'm late for my class."

"Fine!" Dustin says, "And stop calling me 'Dusty Buns'"

"Why? Is that nickname just for Suzy Poo?" You tease.

Dustin glowers at you as you walk off.

♡♡♡

"So, who's the DM?" You ask as you walk alongside Dustin and Mike.

"It's Eddie, Eddie Munson. He's a senior. Long hair, wears a hellfire T-Shirt, I talk about him constantly. God, do you ever listen to me?" Dustin claims exasperatedly.

"Oh! Eddie as in your new favorite older male best friend who Steve's weirdly jealous of?" You ask, "I've seen him around. Is he the one who jumps on lunch tables and yells a lot?"

"Yup." Mike responded, "He's a bit scary when he's revved up. Just warning you beforehand in case he comes off...a bit intimidating."

You nod.

"Hasn't he been held back, like, three times?" You ask.

Before either of the boys could answer, you reach the room. The first thing you see is the table where the game is set. There are three boys sat around, all with Hellfire T-Shirts on. Your eyes fleet from one to the other until finally landing on Eddie. You recognise him immediately from the amount of times you've seen him yelling in the cafeteria.

Dustin and Mike failed to mention how cute he was, you think.

His hair was long and wavy. He was wearing multiple rings. And he was covered in tattoos. You're pretty sure you saw a few bats peeking from under his sleeve.

"Who's this?" One of the guys asks, making all three turn around and look at you.

"This is Y/N! She's subbing for Lucas!" Mike says, the words spilling out fast and nervously.

Why the hell are they so jittery?

"Yeah, she's my sister! The one I mentioned a couple days ago." Dustin adds.

"Does she even know how to play DnD?" The other boy asks.

"Okay, excuse me, I wouldn't have come if I didn't know how to play," You finally speak, waving your hand a little to get their attention.

"So, this is your infamous sister?" Eddie finally speaks, his eyes landing on you, "You know, I thought he made you up. What's your class and level? Level One Elf?"

Elf? Is he mocking me?

"Are you mocking me?" You ask incredously.

"Is he mocking me?" you turn towards Dustin and Mike who immediately start gesticulating, probably asking you to shut up.

"My name is Aeren Sirenfall and I'm a level 14 chaotic good half-elf rogue. I will sneak behind any monster you throw my way and stab them in the back with my poison-soaked kukri. And I'll smile as I watch them die a slow...agonising...death." You say, your voice slow and hard as you glare at Eddie, "So, are we gonna play this stupid game or not?"

You're pretty sure you hear one of the boys mutter a 'she's terrifying' to Dustin.

You watch as Eddie's eyes slowly soften and a grin emerges on his face, "Welcome to Hellfire Club."

#eddie munson #stranger things fic #corroded coffin #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff

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rabbitsrams · 9 months

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thinking about how j would react if his s/o was sensitive to yelling and he lashed out on them without a second thought because he’s just so frustrated with/jealous of another person in their life or any other reason. i believe he might be an angry person in general but he just doesn’t know how to express that so he just yells

they’d start crying and he’d just literally question everything he’s ever done because he feels so bad and even though they’re upset they’re just trying to reassure him through tears, he desperately wants to make it up to them though (wink wonk)

he’d definitely realize immediately but has his back turned so doesn’t see their immediate reaction until he hears a little sniffle and his heart just breaks

🦷 non perhaps

🦷anon ilysm for this it's such a great prompt (added bonus im a sensitive bitch lmao)

schlatt exits his room with a hand in his hair. this recording session completely drained him. there were so many technical difficulties and overall he felt much more irritable than normal. then of course the video he uploaded today got age restricted despite it not even breaking any rules. overall he is fucking pissed.

you're in the living room sitting on the couch, cats curled up beside you while you scroll social media on your phone. you hear schlatt slam the door and go into the kitchen. he's grumbling to himself as he scours the fridge.

"doll? where's the leftovers from last night?" he shouts.

"there weren't any." you reply, not looking up from your phone.

"great, just fuckin' great."

"there's some of the rice i made for lunch if you want that-"

"i don't fucking want that, 'kay?" the harshness of his tone shocks you.

"oh. okay." your voice quivers a bit and tears start to well up in your eyes. you sniffle softly, dabbing your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

"don't cry, don't cry." you tell yourself as you stand from your spot and walk toward the bathroom. you grab the hand towel from the rack and cover your face with it as you start to cry, the towel muffling your sobs.

as schlatt heats the rice up in the microwave, he notices that you left the living room. he calls your name as he goes around the apartment, stopping in front of the bathroom door when he hears your silent cries.

his heart immediately drops, realizing that you're crying because of him. he didn't realize how harsh his tone was, how he was lashing his external frustrations on you, his sun, his moon, his stars.

"sweetheart, please open the door, i'm sorry." he pleads, rattling the doorknob.

you quiet yourself down before telling him, "don't worry about me, baby. i'm okay."

"no, no. i shouldn't have yelled at you, it's nothin' to do with you and i'm so sorry."

"no, i shouldn't be crying at this, i don't wanna make this about me."

schlatt pries the bathroom door open, immediately scooping you up into his arms. he strokes your head as he whispers apologies and reassurances into your ear.

he cradles your face in his hands, wiping away your tears with his thumbs. you smile sheepishly, which earns a soft smile from him.

"i'm sorry," he presses a kiss to your lips. "i'm so sorry, doll." he continues to apologize in between kisses, moving from your lips to your cheek and down to your neck. your breath hitches as his breath tickles your neck.

you lean down and capture his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck. he returns your kiss with volition, holding you close while he deepens the kiss.

"let me make it up to you, please." schlatt stands and lifts you into his arms, pecking you on the lips as he carries you into your bedroom.

#🦷 anon <3 #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #jschlatt fanfiction #jschlatt imagine #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt smut #schlatt imagine #jschlatt fluff #jschlatt fanfic #schlatt fanfic #scout <3

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intheshadowsbehindyou · 7 months

Note

Mercs proposing hc?? So basic but Im literally one corny mf

The TF2 Mercs proposing to their partners

WARNING: Mild gore gifts because this is the Mercs we’re talking about here.

—————————————————————————

Scout:

- Biggest panic attack of his fucking life. Has no idea how to function like a normal human being anymore. It was that feeling of being in love with somebody all over again and needing to tell them. What’s worse about this though is that marriage is a huge commitment. One that many aren’t ready for yet. What if you reject him and he messes this relationship up?

- Goes to Spy for comfort. In all honesty he’s just a very damaged little boy on the inside and scared that he is incapable of receiving unconditional love. The other Mercs catch him behind the base crying into Spy’s shoulder on the curb while Spy holds him. He’s telling Spy how much he loves you; and how terrified he is that you cannot return that same vow. Spy knows the feeling. “Shh, mon lapin.” Boy howdy Spy’s certainly grateful that Scout’s mom didn’t teach him a word of french.

- Spy has to shove Scout into your room to actually finally get him to do it. “Your idiot boyfriend has a few words for you, and apparently I have to be present or i’m certain he’ll break down crying again.” He says to you. While poor Scout curls up into a ball on the floor.

————————————————————————-

Soldier:

- First of all, why him? Second of all, this is the type of guy to go all out and spend half the money he earned in mercenary work to get one of those “will you marry me Y/N?” banners hooked up to a plane. Complete with the pilot being ejected and the plane crashing nose first into a rock formation. Apparently that was 100% intentional because a bunch of confetti came out of the explosion. You don’t know if you should be horrified at the audacity, or head over heels.

- Brings you an entire necklace of ears. But that’s not all! For limited time only you can get one of soldiers’ severed heads that was purposely boiled and skull cut into the shape of a helmet! Great, right? “Wow, what type of animal is this?” You ask. “A DOG. PACKAGED WITH PURE, NO ARTIFICIAL FLAVOR, PASTEURIZED AMERICAN GLORY!” well that’s not reassuring. “OOOHH SAAAAY CAAAAN YOU SEEE—“ Soldier immediately gets hit over the head by Heavy and knocked unconscious.

- After the initial silliness dies down you see adoration as you tend to his awful head wound. Maybe Heavy knocked the stupidity out of him? No. He’s still insane. Soldier grabs your wrist as you apply alcohol to his wound and squeezes your hand. “Somebody like me doesn’t deserve somebody like you.” He says. “Bullshit, Soldier.” You say, leaning in for a kiss.

—————————————————————————

Demoman:

- He can only achieve this when drunk off his mind. Not to mention it arrives in the most unromantic way possible. But it doesn’t make you love him any less. He holds you close to him after a New Years party at the base and pats your back. “Jus’ so you know, you’d look mighty fine with a ring on your finger.” He flirts, getting incredibly physically affectionate. He makes sure never to cross your boundaries.

- “Me mum would kill me but fuck all. y’know? Old wench’s days are numbered anywae. We could live ina nice cottage by the sea.. If ya want wee lil’ bastards I’ll actually take care of em. I’d have to stop me drinkin tho.” He says, pecking your neck. His remaining eye is pleading with you to say yes. “Pleaaase?”

- Has no recollection of these events in the morning so imagine his dumbfounded expression when one of the Mercs asks about his new fiancé. Cue the embarrassment mixed with pride and excitement.

—————————————————————————

Engineer:

- Will 100% go to your window in the dead of night and sing a song for you on his guitar. Particularly I imagine this would be the contender. You have no idea this is even a marriage proposal. You just think he’s being incredibly sappy. Imagine the surprise while mid song he pulls out a small box and throws it up and down recklessly like a baseball. You’re slowly beginning to catch on as he opens it with his free fingers after finishing the song.

- Complete overconfident show off. He pep-talked himself before all this and rehearsed his performance repeatedly. By using the wrangler and effortlessly throwing the box up in the air and propelling it forward with a single bullet, the sentry successfully aided in getting the box up to you. You don’t even know how you managed to catch it, to be honest.

- Tips his hardhat to you. “Whadda say? Marry me?” He can barely contain his smile. Both excited and somewhat relieved he pulled that off.

—————————————————————————

Heavy:

- “Heavy made you dead person crown..” He walks into your room one day and puts it on your head. It’s a bunch of severed ears meant to resemble a flower crown. “Hey, thanks big guy.” You’re grateful for the gift, being a crazed Merc yourself is it really any surprise? You give him a huge kiss on the cheek. Heavy looks thrilled that you accepted his gift. Which is very much unlike him. Usually he’s reserved. Maybe he’s just having a good day?

- Well.. you eventually find out why. That was apparently his way of proposing to you. Soldier nudges you the next morning and teases you for being engaged to Heavy. You’re horrified to say the least. You had no idea this meant marriage. Not that you wouldn’t marry him. But what about his gun Sasha? Wouldn’t she feel jealous? You’ve been with Heavy so long you keep referring to that damn thing as a person.

- Immediately upon seeing you; goes up to you and gives you a list of stuff he wants at this wedding. There’s even a blank page for you to write your own needs. He seems oddly motivated to plan this out months before it actually happens. There is countless mentions of Russian authors he wants to attend the wedding. As if they’d ever consider going to a stranger’s wedding. “If they won’t come then Heavy will crush them..” He says. Same goes for your guests.

—————————————————————————

Pyro:

- Wow.. Kind of the most normal out of all of them. For the most part. If TF2 took place in modern day they’d propose with a ringpop but all they have is a bag of candy and an actual ring (That they may or may not have stolen from someone in Tuefort.)

- They get on their knees and offer the ring to you in an extremely professional manner. It’s quite surreal to see Pyro pull off something so domestic and normal when he’s always destroying stuff with fire. In fact this is a little too normal.. This is Team Fortress we’re talking about here. Shouldn’t something be wacky happening right about now? It’s like the perfect opening for slapstick. Through your cries of love and laughter you begin to feel anxious at the back of your head.

- Yup.. There it is. Pyro tells you that Scout offered to be the ‘Ring bear’ for the wedding. There’s Scout dressed up in a cutesy teddy bear costume. You’re certain that’s not how it works. “Just for the record, if you tell anybody about this, I’ll fuckin’ saw off both your knees boston sandwich style. Capeesh?” He says. You have no idea what that means so you quickly agree.

————————————————————————-

Sniper:

- Afraid he’s going to mess it up, much like Scout. Gets incredibly physically ill as a result from stress and isolates himself in his camper van. You’re convinced he wants to tell you something but you have no idea what it is. One day on the frontlines an arrow narrowly misses your face and embeds itself into the wall next to you. You were about to turn around and bombard Sniper until you saw the note attached to it. “Pardon, Will you marry me? -Sniper.” With a very worried sad face drawn next to the note. He even bothered to draw his hat on it.

- Disbelief clouds your face at first. Sniper? Marry another Merc? You’re in shock. This isn’t something you’d ever suspect from a guy like him. But your initial thought makes way for an uncontrollable smile.

- He literally will not approach you first after this. You have to knock on his camper van because god knows he won’t be even able to face his team for months. As you jump into his arms and kiss him he immediately pulls you inside to love on you in private.

———————————————————————-

Medic:

- WOULD RATHER SHOOT HIMSELF

- Just kidding. But he wishes he were dead right now. How could he do something so… Un-mad-sciencey? Marriage is just a concept brought upon by money hungry people. It only exists within the mind… Yet, that’s how he feels. An eternal vow to you is something he wishes to do. He’s already planned to make you a god alongside him once the time came so you could be his beloved consort forever. It reminded him of the greek story of soulmates.

- Gets a little fruitier than usual. The most feminine moan you ever heard left this man’s body as you brushed against him while trying to help him grab a syringe he dropped. This man gets unusually hornier and that’s how you know something’s up.. “Looking up my skirt, I see!” He says, as you glance up his long lab coat. There isn’t anything there but his pants so you roll your eyes. “Ah yes.. “ You respond. You decide he’s just clingy and horny as usual and carry about your assistance. You’re not in the mood for that. He never even bottoms so he’s feigning it anyway.

- “Err—Uh— Ho! Wouldn’t it be just shameful if I knew what was going on inside your head?” He asks. “Alright, i’ll bite. What are you saying, Doc?” You sigh. He fixes his glasses back up on his face thoughtfully. “One body, one mind. That would be quite intriguing don’t you think? If we were to.. Become one.” He placed an odd amount of emphasis on that, as if the thought was simply music to his ears. Lord he’s creepy. Medic grabs you and holds you close to him. “Think of the possibilities. We’d never be lonely again. I could stitch our bodies together and we could feel each other’s essence. Forever.”

- “Medic, you good?” You ask. Although his words were strangely flattering nonetheless in their own way. You smile at him. He seems to be lost in the idea. Fantasies of being with you for eternity flood his head. Particularly ones where you’re both a weird hybrid god. Weirdest marriage proposal world record goes to Medic.

—————————————————————————-

Spy:

- No, no no no no no. He can’t do this again. Marriage never worked out for him. After losing Scout’s mom and many partners that followed, he couldn’t bare hurting somebody like that again. His job always got in the way of what he truly desired but he had to live with it. This life chose him after all. His hand was forced into this position. Seeing your bright smile for the rest of his days was all he ever wanted. His urges to get up and say something to you were too strong.

- Has to metaphorically slap himself in the face and remind himself to act like a fucking adult. He wasn’t a little rambunctious teenager in Paris anymore. Yet he felt like one whenever he saw you. Such boyish feelings for an old put together gentleman like him. Spy decided to trust you and himself. But if something went wrong he wouldn’t hesitate to jump off a fucking cliff. Spy would stare at his reflection in the bathroom mirror for hours and contemplate his decision before making it.

- He proposes to you under a starry moonlit night. Not even bothering to kneel down, he slides the box across the balcony to you. “Well?” he asks, taking a long drag of his cigarette. His eyes fixated on the horizon. “Do I have to say it?” He asks. “Yes..” You tell him. Your eyes gleaming with joy. You never felt happier in your entire life. “Fine.. Will you marry m—“ He couldn’t even finish before you jump on him, ultimately knocking you both down.

#team fortress 2 #tf2 #demoman x reader #heavy x reader #medic x reader #spy x reader #tf2 x reader #tf2 x you #pyro x reader #sniper x reader

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dotster001 · 9 months

Note

Hi! May I request the reaction of the twst boys, if they already have an S/O but they meet their soulmate? What would they choose between, their S/O or their soulmate?

Summary: Ace/Rook/Sebek/Sam/Leona x. Gn! Reader

A/N: this got long, but I had souch fun thinking about this. So feel free to request other boys for me to look at!

3k followers masterlist

Ace knew just as well as anyone that in modern day society, it was common to not end up with your soulmate. Some people never met their soulmate, some people's soulmates were just not a good match, some people seemingly didn't even have a soulmate. It was fine. Nothing to get butt hurt about.

Ace's soulmate mark on the palm of his hand had never even sparkled, let alone lit up. And he'd found someone that he had fun with. He wasn't sure if it was really love, but that was fine since he couldn't be sure if he was even capable of love.

He probably wasn't. His only other relationship, he'd ghosted them once he got bored. So a fun relationship, with no love, was probably all he deserved.

Until the day the you'd poofed into the mirror chamber, and his soulmate mark had glowed for the first time in his life. He saw you looking around in confusion, and at the time, he had assumed you were looking for him. Later he would realize you were too scared to even notice your mark. He was so god damn selfish.

He quietly slipped a glove on that was supplied with his uniform, and decided to wait and scope you out.

….

You'd both just defeated a monster of some kind, and you, Deuce, and the cat monster were laughing together, but he was just thinking of you.

You. You were too good.

He couldn't do this with you. You'd be hurt at first, but it would be better than knowing your soulmate was a heartless asshole who would leave you when he got bored.

You never had to know. He'd take solace in what he had, and give you your best chance for happiness.

His string of fate had finally become a natural color. And during the SDC auditions, he'd found it belonged to you.

He'd told you the truth. That he'd been seeing many people, believing that you were dead, or he'd never been destined to meet you. He was practically pleading with you to forgive him for the crimes he'd committed against you, but you told him you'd done the same thing once you'd realized your string wasn't the correct color.

He fought back a wave of intense jealousy, by kissing you, and telling you he'd break up with the one he'd been dating immediately. Hell, he'd be doing it right this moment, if you hadn't told him it'd be cruel for him to do it over a call.

How could he even care about cruel when you were right in front of him? Ready to help him find his happily ever after!

Lilia had always told him about soulmates, and how they would change your life. When you saw them, your world would literally expand, the otherworldly "colors" flooding your vision, but all you'd be able to focus on is their eyes.

He'd started at NRC, and Riddle Rosehearts had brought up the fact that a marriage of convenience would help Malleus more than being with his soulmate would. Silver had stepped in, repeating what master Lilia had always repeated. But Rosehearts was one that his lord respected dearly. There was no harm in trying it.

And one date with the rich merchant's kid had turned into two, had turned into three, had turned into a full relationship. For Sebek, the connections were very helpful to his king. For his partner, connections to the fae court, which were normally hard to come by, were completely open to them.

While Lilia often gave the disappointed dad look, and Silver wanted no part in the relationship, Sebek saw no reason to end it.

At least until the two of you made eye contact, and he finally got to experience color.

You were ecstatic! But he was torn… could he give up this boon he had for his master, just for his own happiness.

He told you he needed time. You looked disappointed. Perhaps you had your own Lilia back home who had filled you with beautiful promises. But you told him you understood. Albeit with tears glimmering in the corners of your eyes.

He spent three days straight training. He didn't think to stop, even with the sweat streaming into his eyes, causing them to burn more than they already were.

It wasn't until he felt his Lord's calming presence entering his periphery, a steaming mug of hot cocoa, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream floating in it, in his hands.

"It would be foolish to work yourself to death."

Sebek halted his moves, sheathing his sword, and quietly grabbing the mug.

"It is not often you are rendered speechless," Malleus smirked,but Sebek could barely nod.

Malleus sighed. "Humans do not live very long. To have one for your soulmate is a blessing few get to share. You will have centuries to be bound to someone you do not love.Do not lose your chance to hold them while you have them."

Malleus vanished as quickly as he appeared. Sebek stared at his hot cocoa, before running to find you, while he still had the chance.

He was always so cold. No matter where he was, he never could find the warmth of his soulmate. He'd ask his friends every once in a while to see if there was a soul that was destined to truly belong to him. The answer was always no. So he lived in eternal winter.

Those trapped in the cold seek warmth. And he'd found solace in a simple witch. There was no love. The relationship was purely to bring warmth to one another.

Then one day, he felt a moment of relief, as his friends came running for him, all of them speaking over one another. The only word he could consistently catch was , "Soulmate". The worst part was that he was literally in the arms of his little witch.

It wasn't that he didn't want you. He desperately did. Especially when Everytime you walked into the room, the cold numbing his fingertips dissipate, and he'd feel like he was in a warm embrace.

But you never pushed him, because of the conversation he had with you the moment you walked into his shop for the first time.

"I can't."

"Huh?"

"Not yet. I have someone relying on me. I'm their only source of warmth. Can you wait for me?"

You truly were perfect for him, because you never brought it up. And if you were anything like him, you desperately wanted the warmth you would feel if you held him close to you. But you were so patient. Pretending everything was fine, while he searched tirelessly for a soulmate that might not exist, for a potion that would simulate the warmth.

One day though. He promises that one day, he'll have it figured out. And then both of your patience will have paid off.

no one could ever love him. Which is why he wasn't bothered that no one's name was scrawled on his arm. And why he wasn't bothered when his brother had nervously asked if he'd be opposed to a betrothal to someone from another country. It's not like anyone was waiting for him.

It was a comfortable relationship. They definitely didn't love each other. But at least there was someone who had to at least pretend they cared when you complained about something. Comfortable. That's all he could ask for.

Until he'd felt pain on his arm, and found a name scrawled onto it for the first time. In a sea of new freshmen, he could pretend he didn't notice. He could pretend he didn't see.

And he hadn't run into the person the name belonged to, until you stepped on his tail in the greenhouse.

And after that, you were trying. You were trying so damn hard. It was endearing, and he almost let you in.

But deep down, he knew you'd one day seem him for who he was.

So one day, on edge from you asking him questions about himself, he snapped and told you to stop wasting your time, and get out of his life. Stop lying. No one could ever love him.

You glared at him. You called him a coward. And he growled back at you.

"I don't need you!"

For a moment, you seemed startled. Then you glared at him, and held your head high as you told him you wished him the best but doubted he'd find it.

And as he watched you storm off, a part of him knew you were right.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #3k followers #ace trapolla #ace trapolla x reader #ace x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt #rook x reader #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #sebek x reader #twst sam #twisted wonderland sam #twst sam x reader #sam x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #leona x reader

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anon-sect · 22 days

Text

As requested by @gangesqueen for a Part Two

Lial was in a sweaty prison around Trey, the team captain's waist. He could hear the team celebrate their victory on the bus ride home. He could even hear their coach joining in on the celebration. He so wanted to scream for help for the coach to convince the team captain to let him go. But as an article of clothing, he couldn't do anything but cradle the waistline of who wore him. The sweaty prison was a nightmare. He was completely saturated by Trey's sweat and started to smell like the musky odor he was attached to.

After a two hour drive back, Trey got to his car and drove home. It was then he realized the sentient underwear he was wearing. They were enjoying the celebration so much he had forgotten about the special trophy the losing team gifted them. "Sorry to say, but your old life is over, buddy. My team and I get to have all the fun with you." He gloated over his transformed underwear.

Once home, Trey decided to let his transformed underwear know just how much of an object he was. He got undressed with just only his underwear on. He went to his computer desk and put on a porn video. As the action in the video intensified, so did his dick. He stroke and stroked it through his underwear until his load spilled on the inside. The release felt so wonderful. He gained a sense of superiority as he saw the underwear front wet with hot cum. The thought that he just did that to a former human actually felt great to him.

Lial felt so disgusted at his face being rubbed around Trey's dick. Feeling the warm cum wet his face made his feelings even worse. The guy literally ejaculated in him as though he was a simple object, a simple article of clothing on his body. He no longer felt human anymore. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did, underwear bitch. I think I will sleep in you as well. You need to truly realize what your teammates did to you." He heard Trey laugh at him. Trey took a shower and put him back on his body, much to his disagreement.

The next day, Lial found himself turned back human again. He still smelled horrible from the musk from being Trey's underwear. He looked up at another of Trey's teammates. "I want a pair of bitch socks, Trey" Antoine spoke to his team captain. Lial thought being underwear was bad enough, but being socks on the jock's feet didn't sound pleasant. "Please, just let me go, I promise I won't say a word about what you have done to me" Lial pleaded, only to see Trey flash a light at him from his TF phone. He didn't have a chance to say another word.

Antoine picked up the Nike socks off the floor. "You have him for one day, then another person gets to play with him next." Trey spoke as he left Lial with Antoine to use as he pleased. He really was looking forward to this. He quickly slips him on his feet. It felt wonderful on feet, unlike normal socks. The former human was super comfortable to wear. Antoine decided to go on a five-mile jog for good measure on the transformed human. He didn't even get the guy's name, but that really didn't matter. He was socks now and socks don't need to have a name.

Lial saw this new experience was far worse than being wrapped around Trey's waist. Each step brought on levels of pain he never thought was possible. He mentally screamed in agony as Antoine started his jog. The pain seemed never ending. The pain wasn't the only thing he had to contend with. The sneakers he was shoved in smelled so bad, he wished he could have passed out just so that he didn't have to smell the foul stench. He mentally begged that he was having a bad nightmare and could wake up from it. After twenty minutes, he saw his nightmarish hell go from bad to worse. He was now tasting the foot sweat that was saturating his sock bodies. Being a transformed object heighted his senses 500% beyond normal. Every smell, touch and taste made his hell a place of torment. The jog seemed never ending.

Antoine returned from his jog to relax. His feet didn't hurt one bit. In fact, they have never felt better. He knew it was all due to his current socks. He wanted to thank his socks for doing such a good job. He knew one special way to do just that. He took off one sock and placed it over his dick. While watching porn, he ejaculated in it for good pleasure. With the other sock, he used that to clean his dick off. He didn't formally thank his socks, because who really speaks to their socks as though it's a person.

For the next several months, Lial was treated to being an object for each member of the team as something that person wanted him to be. He had been shoes, socks, underwear, a dildo, a condom, insoles, boots. He just wanted his nightmare to end. He was finally given back to the team captain after everyone had their fun with him. He was so hoping he would at last be free. He found himself human once again, not sure what was going to happen next.

"I give you the option, I turn you into a permanent pair of Nike Air Jordans for my feet forever, or you can suck my cock and be set free afterwards. Your choice." Trey told Lial. What Lial didn't know was that Trey had a devious plan if he chose to suck his cock.

Lial saw this as his opportunity to return back to normal life, even if that meant he had to suck the jock's sausage to get it. He quickly put Trey's dick in his mouth and started sucking it. He wasn't paying any attention to what Trey was doing above him.

Trey had the setting on the TF phone and snapped his picture. Lial vanished before him. All that was left was an extra six inches to his dick. He laughed as he realized that the guy was permanently his cock now. There was no way to reverse what he had done to him. Yet, he didn't want to reverse it. The loser was given to his team, so they got to do whatever they wanted with him. He pulled up his underwear and pants, trapping his new cock in darkness. He promised he would give the guy some action soon enough. There would be plenty who would want to suck his new dick or an ass he could be shoved in. The thought of subjecting the former human to that made him laugh

Lial realized that Trey had lied to him as he now found himself as the man's dick. His fate was sealed; his humanity was permanently gone forever. He was now the jocks sex tool for the rest of his life. He could only weep and feel contempt for his former teammates, who put him in this predicament.

#inanimate transformation #transformed underwear #sock transformation #cock transformation #permanent transformation #tf story

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angelsdean · 3 days

Text

*record scratch* freeze frame. Reality Check. "You're the one who came and got me at school. You're the one who dragged me back into this." let's re-evaluate that statement, Sam, because that is not, in fact, what happened.

The context in which Sam makes this statement is that he's arguing Dean used to care about the revenge quest and killing the demon because Dean is the one that came and got Sam and thus "dragged him back" into the quest to kill the demon. But, that is not why Dean went to get Sam at school, it was to find John, who was missing and possibly dead. Dean didn't even Know about the demon at this point (they don't find out that "the thing that killed mom" is a demon til 1x11) or that John was closing in on it. Dean goes to Stanford to ask Sam to help him look for John, that's it. Then, at the end of 1x01 Dean brings Sam back to school in time for his interview as promised, and drives away. He only turns around when, in the deleted scene, he notices his watch has stopped, cluing him in that something is wrong. And he gets there in time to save Sam from the burning building.

Sam then makes the choice to leave with Dean because now that he's lost someone, he is personally invested in finding John because John knows more about the thing that killed Mary (and now Jess) than anyone, and Sam is the one who is now consumed by the need for revenge and the first step in getting that revenge is finding John, something he had no vested interest in doing before, but is now heavily invested in, even more than Dean is, as we see throughout the first half of s1 where Sam is often the one calling around looking for John and is more interested in searching for John than taking on random cases.

Anyways, it's just so interesting to track this revisionism of events and how both Sam and Dean come to accept this as the truth when it's literally not what we saw happen throughout the season. And we see Dean start to absorb this belief after Meg plants the seed in their heads in 1x16, trying to drive a wedge between them, by falsely saying Dean "drags Sam around like luggage" when literally the whole reason Sam and Meg meet is because Sam wanted to part ways in 1x11 and Dean let him go. Sam then comes back and decides to stay all on his own, even after Dean offers to drop Sam off somewhere.

Dean expresses in 1x16, that yes, he wants Sam around, he wants his family together again, but at the end of that very episode Dean is also the one who says they need to split up from John, even though it's the last thing he wants. Dean consistently is willing to let people go, even if it's not what he personally wants. And especially Sam. Over and over throughout the season he expressed how he wants Sam to have a normal life, is willing to let Sam go, or stay in some random town and drop the search for John. So even IF Dean did secretly want Sam to stick around when he went to get Sam at Stanford, he never expected it. Never enforced it.

That Sam comes to think Dean "dragged him back" into hunting is a purely revisionism and a bit of projection, I think, because Sam might not want to face the truth of the matter which is that he consistently chose to stick with hunting, and actually enjoys it more than he'd like to admit. And, as both he and John express, this quest to kill Yellow Eyes becomes "their" obsession. Not Dean's. Dean is the one who says he'd rather they never find the demon if it means losing his family. Dean is the one that says getting revenge isn't worth dying for. And then, Sam takes this to heart, when at the end of 1x22 he refuses to kill John Possessed by Azazel at Dean's pleading, AND when he tells John that killing this demon does not come "before everything" while eyeing Dean bleeding out in the backseat.

Dean was never the one invested in revenge. He did not come get Sam from Stanford to aid in the family revenge quest, he came for help in finding their missing father, something Dean cared abt simply because that's family, and Dean cares deeply, despite everything John put them through. Dean is the one that cares, the heart of the narrative, etc etc. He comes to Sam because he is alone in the world, because their only other blood relative is missing, because it's a very human thing, to reach out, to want family around. And still, he was always going to let Sam go after the 1x01. He didn't like it. It's not what Dean wanted. But he was going to let him go back to his life. Sam chose to follow Dean and continue searching for John.

#vics spn rewatch #sam revisionism #family dynamics #long post #sorry i got lots to say #spn 1x01 #spn 1x11 #spn 1x16 #spn 1x21 #spn 1x22

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mellifiedprincess · 3 months

Text

This was wrote very quickly, sooo not really sure if it’s good or not :/

“Good morning campers! I’m your host Nick Sturniolo.” There’s a slight pause before your eyes drift over to your boyfriend. “Matthew Sturniolo here.”

“Chrizzz.”

“And welcome back to the Cut the Camera podcast.” You can hear the joy in Nicks voice as he continues the intro. Your head is placed in Nicks shoulder, arms wrapped around one of his, in search of comfort.

Usually, you find comfort in the arms of your boyfriend. But not today. Today he and Chris have betrayed your trust, and therefore you are forced to cling to Nick against his free will.

“Of course I can’t continue without explaining why Y/N is glued to my side. For those who are not watching this on youtube, normally Y/N and Matt would be sitting together. Being gross and all that, but not today.” Nick pauses, looking at you before switching his eyes from Matt to Chris.

“Would anyone like to explain?” Before either of the boys can even think about speaking, your body lunges forward to grab Nicks mic. “Matt and Chris are evil spawns of satan and deserve to be put in solitary confinement.” You glare at the stupid laughing idiots sitting across from you and sink back down next to Nick.

“JESUS Y/N/N!” Chris can barely get words out from laughing at your outburst. “Kids wanting us locked up.”

“Nick! Make him shut up before I punch his stupid face.”

“Alright sweetheart.” Nick laughs and gives your arm an affectionate rub.

“Chris cut it out. Leave her alone.” Matt finally speaks up, his lopsided grin giving away the fact he finds the current scared state his girlfriend is in to be amusing. His eyes meet yours and even though he knows you’re not seriously upset with him, he still wants to apologize profusely and shower you with affection.

“Will you please come over here and sit by me?” He pleads with you, but you’re not having it. “No!” You huff out and squeeze Nicks arm even tighter.

“Ohhhkay, moving on.” Nick interrupts before things escalate. “The reason Y/N and Matt are mad at each other-“

“I’m not mad at my girlfriend. I miss her and want her over here with me!” Matt cuts Nick off with a tone one could only describe as…pouty. “Maybe if you didn’t try to paralyze me with fear and send me into cardiac arrest, I wouldn’t be over here with Nicky praying on your downfall.” With that you cross your arms and purse your lips, that same glare from earlier back.

An audible whine leaves your boyfriend’s lips. A whine. He was actually trying to kill you.

“Can I tell the viewers what happened? Or am I gonna keep getting interrupted?” After everyone finally quiets down, Nick continues.

“So, many of you may not know this about our angel of a friend Y/N, but one of her biggest fears is things/people running at her.” You can clearly see the amusement on the triplets faces, because of how ridiculously funny the situation is to them. It wasn’t to you though. “It could literally be a baby crawling towards her super fast and the girl is screaming and frozen with fear.”

Before Nick starts to speak again, Chris starts laughing uncontrollably once again. “Remember when we went to that haunted house thing for halloween and at the end, like after you make it back outside, there was that guy holding a chainsaw-“ You already knew what he was talking about, one of the scariest moments of your life.

“Christopher don’t!” Your tone is one of warning, and your eyes widen at the memory that haunts you daily. (Dramatic much?)

Of course, that fucker continues anyway. “No wait, this is one of my favorite Y/N/N stories. Chris has to tell it.”

“You traitor!” You point an accusing finger at Nick, who only laughs at you. “I can’t trust any of you!” You quickly move to sit by Matt after that, a satisfied grin makes its way onto his face and he wraps his arms around you as soon as you’re next to him.

And as soon as your body falls into his, any fear you had diminishes instantly. Like your body knew the safest you would ever feel was anywhere in his proximity. You feel his lips press against your temple, before making its way across your cheek, and then finally turning your head a little to give you a proper kiss on your lips.

“And the barf mobile has arrived.” Nick deadpans. “Fuck off.” You and Matt deadpan in unison.

“Alright when I come running at you with a chainsaw, don’t say shit.”

The image of Nick running at you makes you curl into Matt’s side even more. “Alright, stop scaring her. She literally won’t sleep tonight and will probably make me go with her to the bathroom every time she has to use it.”

“You’re funny if you think I’m not making you go with me to the bathroom after the shit you and Chris pulled.”

Matt can only grin down at you, he was just happy that you were back beside him. Codependency is a bitch <3

“Alright, back to what Matt and Chris did to Y/N. Y/N, you wanna start the story off?” Nick directs the attention on to you and you start playing with Matt’s fingers as an anxious habit.

“Let’s start off with the fact, I was in the middle of cooking dinner for these idiots and I thought I was still the only one home.” You watch Chris cover his mouth to try to hide his smile, ultimately failing.

“I heard something from downstairs and thought maybe Chris left his patio doors open and an animal got in. Wouldn’t be the first time. So, I put my investigation skills to the test and went to see what it was. Anyone want to guess what it was?” You pause for dramatic effect, looking around the table for a moment.

“It was my lovely boyfriend and dumbass best friend standing at the bottom of the staircase with creepy ass masks on. And as soon as they saw me they start running up the stairs towards me!” A shiver of fright runs through your body at the scene replaying in your head.

“And what did your fight or flight instincts tell you to do?” Matt asks, already knowing the answer since he saw it firsthand. “I don’t have fight or flight instincts. I have freeze instincts. BECAUSE I WAS FROZEN FROM FEAR!”

And at your outburst, the three brothers start laughing uncontrollably, Matt earning a slap to his chest as his body shakes from how hard he was laughing.

“And what makes it even worse is when my body finally registered I needed to move my fucking ass, I ran to our room and immediately called Matt.”

“Awe baby, I’m so sorry.” He’s quietly laughing now, pulling you even closer to his body. “I promise I won’t scare you like that ever again.” You cut your eyes at him and plants a kiss to your cheek, trying to convince you.

“Maybe not intentionally, but Y/N/N literally gets scared if you look at her for too long.”

Chris was right, but he didn’t have to call you out like that.

“I will hide every can of pepsi you bring into this house.” You threaten and watch as his mouth drops open in shock, before he fucking. starts. staring. you. down.

“CHRIS! Cut it out!” Matt yells at his younger brother when he realizes he’s trying to scare you again.

“You are all very bizarre.” Nick shakes his head and gets ready to move on to the next topic.

#matt sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader

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buckybabesonly · 1 year

Text

Mockingbird

Summary: Bucky tells you he doesn’t need you, except he can’t live without you.

Pairing: Bucky x Doctor!Female!reader

Genre: Slight angst

Warnings: I’m not a medical expert, mentions of character injury, Bucky self-wallowing

Word count: 2.8k

Knowing that Bucky was constantly amid danger was the bane of your existence. You could plead him to be careful, always remind him to take care of himself, but you knew your words could do little to protect him from harm.

He was a soldier first and would always do the right thing on the field, no matter how dangerous. He would attack those against him and protect those beside him, even if it meant that his safety was on the line.

It was one of the sources of your arguments, and you hated it.

In the beginning, you thought you would be able to take it. After all, he had been doing this long before he met you. When you first got together, he had made sure you knew exactly what you were getting into.

Your love for Bucky had been stronger than anything, and you knew you had to at least try, no matter how unconventional the relationship.

So, over a year later, even though you couldn’t have frequent dates like a ‘normal’ couple, and sometimes Bucky crawled into your bed looking bruised and battered, and you had found yourself in the crosshairs of Bucky’s enemies one too many times, you thought you had finally found happiness.

Bucky worried about you too. Being his girlfriend meant that he had a weakness to be exploited, and the fear grew over time after the first attack on your life just four months into your relationship. It had been a close call, but after that incident you moved into the Tower which had much safer security measures than your downtown apartment. It was probably more convenient to live literally where you worked, anyway.

The unexpected turning point, however, was seeing Bucky being wheeled into the medical wing on a gurney, unconscious with blood painting every exposed inch of his face. You were paralysed with fear, unable to even speak as you were ushered out of the room, dressed in your scrubs but far too incapable of being the one to tend to him.

He had made a full recovery, but this did little to ease your anxiety. A week after he’d been discharged, your fights began again.

“We’ve had this conversation before,” Bucky said tersely, doing little to hide his frustration as you paced your room.

“And we’re having it again,” you said through gritted teeth. “Bucky, do you know how scared I was when I saw you? I literally couldn’t move – Steve had to basically carry me out of there. That’s never happened to me before. I couldn’t speak, couldn’t think – I froze.”

Bucky’s face softened, knowing how terrified you were.

“That can’t happen again,” you continued, anger bubbling in your voice.

“What do you mean?” He dragged a hand across his face, looking exhausted.

“You almost died, Bucky.”

He scoffed. “They’ll have to try a lot harder to get rid of me.”

“Stop it!” You exclaimed loudly, turning on him, livid. “I know you always joke about things like that, but it’s not funny.”

“What do you want me to do?” It was a genuine question, and you were hyperaware of how tired Bucky looked in this moment. You felt guilty for adding to his existing stress, but you weren’t sure how you were going to cope anymore.

“Can you just – I don’t know, take a break?” You knew the words coming out of your mouth were silly, but you just wanted Bucky to stop. Stop getting hurt, stop getting injured, stop risking his life and risk taking himself away from you permanently.

“This is all I know,” Bucky said firmly. “You know that this is what I have to do.”

“Do you? Do you have to do it?” You challenged. Vaguely, in the back of your mind, you knew you were being unfair but your stubbornness meant you had to stick to your guns.

“What do you expect? You want me to take a part-time job in a grocery store, instead?”

You didn’t take kindly to his snarky tone, bristling.

“I’m expecting you to take this relationship seriously.”

“What part of me doing my job means I don’t take this relationship seriously?” He shot back, looking irate.

“You’re supposed to take my needs into consideration, too. Nowadays, every time you leave, I think it might be the last time I see you.” Your voice cracked on the final word, and Bucky could see you crumbling as your eyes stung.

He quickly approached you, pulling you into a comforting hug as you sobbed into his chest. He was the only person you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with, and he had seen you cry more often than he’d like to.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry. You’re breaking my heart,” he murmured, pressing his lips into your hair.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you said, knowing he didn’t quite understand the extent of your fear, try as he may.

The argument ended with kisses melting into your skin and reassuring words in your ear, and you allowed him to comfort you, though you knew it was only temporary.

Anger was blinding Bucky’s better judgement.

It was Sam’s turn to be wheeled into the medical wing, but this time, it didn’t look like he would be as lucky. He was still human, after all, and it looked like HYDRA had managed to do a number on the Falcon.

Sam had to undergo emergency surgery as Bucky stalked up and down the waiting room. He was muttering under his breath, Sam’s blood still slick on his hands.

You rushed to the medical wing as soon as you heard, knowing that Sam was in the safe hands of your colleagues and that your boyfriend needed you. However, he barely acknowledged your presence when you burst through the doors, panic written on your face.

Bucky was torturing himself mentally. Replaying the events a couple of hours ago over and over in his head, watching as Sam crashed onto the concrete ground, wings smashed into smithereens and his body unresponsive, as the assailants got away. They hadn’t been outnumbered, but were taken by surprise at HYDRA’s unusually advanced tech. They had equipment that Bucky and Sam had not been prepared for and, unfortunately, struggled to combat.

Bucky had managed to get out unscathed bar a few scratches and bruises, but Sam was in much worse shape. Perhaps the worst Bucky had ever seen him.

He hated himself.

They were partners, and he had failed him.

“Bucky, are you alright?” You had been repeating that same question over and over again, but Bucky barely seemed to hear you. “I’ve looked at the team’s initial assessment - Sam should be okay.”

Okay? How could anything be fucking okay when HYDRA was still a threat to Bucky, to you, to everyone that he cared about? He was seething with anger, feeling hopelessness and rage consume him.

“I need to get out of here,” he grunted finally, shrugging you off and walking towards the doors. You recognised this response - he was shutting down, shutting you out, wanting to internalise his rage.

You gaped at him, pulling on his arm. “You’re not going anywhere. Can you please talk to me?” You knew what had happened had shaken him up, and you were determined not to let him wallow by himself.

“I know where their nest is,” Bucky spat, speaking to himself more than to you. “I can get them.”

You stared at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Are you serious? You can’t go in there by yourself.”

“Sam got hurt because we were too fucking scared to go straight for the target,” Bucky practically snarled. “We thought we could play a strategy, work bottom up. But fuck that, they almost killed us out there, and I’m fucking done.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” you said harshly, knowing that Bucky wasn’t thinking straight. “You’re going to go in there, guns blazing and get outnumbered and beat? Again?”

“I can get the backup,” Bucky grunted.

“You’re putting yourself and everyone else’s lives in danger,” you said sternly. “Stop it and use your brain for one second, James.” You were secretly terrified, knowing that nothing could stop Bucky once he had his mind set on something. What would you do if he went in there alone and unprepared? What would you do if he got injured like Sam?

Bucky glared at you, and you almost recoiled at the sight, but stood your ground. “You know I’m right. You are being stupid and reckless.” You kept your voice steady, staring him down.

He marched up to you, pointing to the room where Sam was currently being operated in. You flinched at how furiously his boots pounded against the ground.

“Sam could die because of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” you said, exasperated. “You need a plan of attack. I know you’re angry right now, but you need to be calm.”

You watched as he turned away from you and suddenly lashed out, punching a sizeable dent in the wall, making you jump.

“You don’t know shit.”

You grimaced, hating the way he was speaking to you.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” you said, a small scowl on your lips. “I’m scared, Bucky. I won’t have you going out there, especially not in this state of mind. You’re not thinking straight.”

“I can’t just sit here doing nothing knowing full well where they are,” Bucky said, jaw clenching. He was feeling so frustrated and didn’t know why you couldn’t seem to understand.

“I know you’re angry,” you repeated, making Bucky’s jaw tick, “but you’re thinking blindly, and you need me to make you see sense.”

“I don’t need you for anything,” he said sharply.

His back was still turned to you, but you could see how his shoulders immediately sagged out of their defensive position once the words left his mouth. You audibly gasped, taking a step back and swallowing hard. Your lower lip quivered uncontrollably.

The constricting in your heart was awfully painful as you absorbed his words, ringing loud and clear.

I don’t need you.

His words made one of your biggest insecurities become something fully tangible. The deep-rooted belief that, at the end of the day, Bucky didn't really have any use for someone like you.

Cursing, he turned back round to look at you properly, his face full of guilt at your crestfallen expression.

“I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.”

You didn’t say anything at first, inhaling shakily. Trying to catch your breath.

“It’s fine,” you said quietly, unable to hide the tears in your eyes. He took a step forward but you walked backwards again, rapidly until your back thudded against the doors.

"I shouldn't have said that -" he began, hating the way he could see the way your nails were digging hard into your fleshy palms, the way you did whenever you felt upset. Your mouth was trembling and he knew you were trying so hard not to cry

“I’m going to go,” you said quietly, turning to make your hasty exit and ignoring his pleas for you to stay.

You said quietly in your room, mulling to yourself carefully about what had happened. You had locked yourself away as soon as you had assurance from your fellow doctors that Sam’s surgery had been a success.

Bucky’s words swam in your mind. You knew they were borne from anger, but they had to have some truth in it.

He didn’t need you, not really. What could you give him that someone else couldn’t? What’s more, you were just an ordinary human. Weak, expendable.

You felt a cold chill creep through your chest as you continued to let the thoughts swirl.

You didn’t want to make the mistake of believing that you were more important to him than you actually were.

You pulled your knees to your chest, sat on the ground at the foot of your bed. You hugged them tight as if they could provide you some comfort, letting your tears soak into the fabric of your jeans.

Bucky never had a bad word to say against you. He was always the first person to battle away your self-doubts, your self-loathing, your insecurities. You wondered if he had always secretly believed that he didn't truly need you.

It was insane how much words could hurt.

A gentle tapping at your door made you jump, and you knew instantly it was him. His voice followed shortly after, a gentle plead.

“Can you open the door?”

His voice was apologetic, and it just made you want to cry harder. You heard him sigh when you didn’t respond.

“I’m really sorry, sweetheart. I really didn’t mean it. I was just being a jerk.”

You forced yourself to stand up and padded over to the door, knowing that he could hear your movements. You took a deep breath and opened it, met by the sight of his handsome, guilt-ridden face.

“It’s okay,” you said curtly, shrugging. “You said what you said. And I think, to some extent, you meant it.”

He scanned your tear streaked face, knowing how hard you were trying to keep your expression cool and face emotionless.

Bucky’s face became anguished, frowning and shaking his head vehemently. He stepped forward, taking your hands in his, though yours remained limp in his large palms.

“I didn’t,” he said firmly. “Of course I didn’t mean it.”

Bucky knew he couldn’t just take his words back and pretend they never happened, and he despised that he had hurt you.

His emotions were complex, his anger raw and all-consuming. He had been so caught up in his thoughts, he lashed out at your mere suggestion of reigning them in. He didn’t need to be placated – or so he thought – he just wanted to ride out that anger and hurt those people who posed a threat to everyone he cared about.

How could he make you think that he didn’t need you? Of course he needed you – you were his motivation for everything in life. You were his reason that he wanted to be better.

He should have listened to you when you tried to reason with him. He lost control of his feelings, and he was ashamed.

Bucky hugged you suddenly, circling his arms around you. He breathed in your scent, closing his eyes as you stood with your arms by your sides, unsure of what to do.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed again, his words like silk in your ear. “Today has been kind of a shitty day. With HYDRA showing their faces again, and Sam getting hurt, and knowing that you could be in danger…it made me feel like I had to get out there and shut down any possibility of something happening to you. And I felt that I needed to do that alone, to be the one to eliminate the threat.”

You bit down on your lower lip, tears welling in your eyes again. You could feel the love radiating from Bucky as he held you, and it helped soothe the ache in your heart.

“When you tried to calm me down, I know you meant well, doll, I’m so sorry. But there was a voice in my head telling me that I have to do everything in my power to keep you safe, and when you told me not to do anything, I snapped.” His confession was wrought with honesty, and you softened your stance, raising your arms up to wrap around him, too.

“I know it doesn’t make sense,” he mumbled, sounding embarrassed now.

“It’s okay,” you whispered, tilting your head back to look at him. “I know you just want to protect me.”

“Believe me,” he said sternly, eyes locked with yours, “that I need you. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” he nodded. “I may be a fucking super soldier with a dumb metal arm and fight off bad guys, but I need you to remind me that I’m much more than just that.” He studied your face long and hard, making sure that you really understood him. Finally, he leaned down to kiss your lips. “Forgive me?”

“Mmm,” you murmured, unable to concentrate now as he deepened the kiss, pulling you closer against his body, his solid chest.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a maybe. I might need a little more convincing,” you muttered, pulling him into your room and closing the door behind him.

The door stayed shut for the rest of the evening.

#bucky angst #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fanfic #marvel fanfics #marvel oneshot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky oneshot #bucky x female reader

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emmyrosee · 1 year

Note

hello🤍 i really love and appreciate your work! hope you’re doing well✨

can i request kageyama tobio or todoroki shoto when they want the attention or anything on your mind about them?🥹 THANK YOU SO MUCH🥹🤍

NO BC LIKE I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THEM MORE FRFR 🥺🧡

Here’s a Kageyama piece bc I don’t have any for him yet and he deserves it

——

Tobio doesn’t always demand your attention.

9 times out of 10, he’s completely self sufficient, being the supplier to affections you need, rather than demanding yours.

And sure, he’s not made of stone, holding your hand is one of life’s greatest pleasures. Kissing you on the cheek while you look over the takeout menu is exactly what the doctor orders.

But sometimes? The 1 time out of 10?

You really just wanna make him work for it.

You’ll always give him the luxury of never having to plead for you attention, and you indulge him in your affections without making him writhe.

Today. Today? Today is not one of those days.

Because today, even though he’s had this plan with Ushijima for the past three weeks to hang out and practice just the two of them, you woke up overly playful.

You wanted to make him squirm juuuuust a hair.

He seemed mindless to it, not thinking twice about the way you duck from his holds or reach away from his hand. It's alright. You've got all the time in the world to annoy him before and after he hangs out with his friend.

But, not-so surprisingly, it comes to a head when you're avoiding his kisses goodbye. This, he's forced to notice, when you turn your head just slightly when he leans over to kiss before he leaves.

His lips get a mouthful of forehead.

Pouting, he pulls back at you with a glare of betrayal, brows furrowed slightly. You snort softly, “what’re you lookin’ at?”

“Why’d you turn your head?” He grumbles, tightening his grip on your hips. Then, his brows shoot up, “is it my breath?” He uses on of his hands to huff and sniff his breath, but he seems to be confused when the smell is normal. “Why didn’t you want to kiss me?”

“What do you mean?” You hum, your arms looping around his neck. “Of course I want to kiss you. I always want to kiss you.”

He looks at you, suspicious, but he does lean down to try and kiss you again, whining out in annoyance when his lips press to your eyebrow. “Come on!”

“What!”

“I want a kiss!” He grumbles, fingers slipping into the waistband of your pants and gently tugging you closer, his refusal to leave without a kiss evident. “Is this because I’m hanging out with Ushijima today? Because I can cancel, I know he’d be just fine with it-“

“Why do you think that? And why would I mind that you’re hanging out with Ushijima? I like Ushijima.”

“I don’t know, you ask your lips!” He snaps, and just as you go to open your mouth to speak, he tugs you closer again, this time, catching you in a dominating kiss that has you giggling into his mouth. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, keeping you close as your teeth start to clack against each other from your laughter and his determination.

“Tobio!” You manage to squeak out, finally parting from him with a dopey smile. Your fingers hook in the collar of his shirt, and he uses one of his free hands to wipe your bottom lip.

“You play around too much,” he murmurs, voice in a rasp from the prior affection. “Why can’t you just love me?”

“EXCUSE ME?” You gasp in outrage, and as he fights back the smirk on his lips, you tug his collar promptly, “I literally love you more than life itself, don’t even try it.”

“You’re the one who refused to kiss me first!” He scoffed, leaning in for another and smiling against your lips when you don’t pull away. “Had to provoke me and shit. Hate it. Just kiss me when I lean in, damn.”

“You will live if I don’t give into your kisses whenever you demand,” you tease, leaning up to him to sink your teeth into his lip, which, even though he gives you an annoyed look, he absolutely pursed out for you to nip. “Now go. Don’t keep your friend waiting. Scram.”

He groans dramatically, "there you go. Trying to get rid of me again." You smack his chest, and he chuckles as he stills your hands. This time, he leans forward for a kiss, and you comply, moving your arms to wrap around his neck. This one is a lot more gentle, paced and familiar, it takes your breath away and you mewl happily into his mouth. In an act of dominance, his massive paws come up to grip the hair at the nape of your neck, and you whimper softly.

He pulls away with a pant, "I fucking love you."

"That's nice," you smile, fighting the laughter that wants to spill from your lips when he looks completely unamused to your next act of rebellion.

"I'll leave you for Ushijima, I swear to god, asshole."

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multiwreckedmess · 9 months

Text

Two Princes (The End?)

Pairing: Prince!Hyunjin x fem!servant!Reader x Prince!Felix Genre: Royalty AU Smut WC: 9k (ish) Summary: The realities of life hurt more than if the two Princes were just a daydream. It’s time to be honest.

TW: Sexual assault (not by the boys, I will include additional detail below the cut to review at your own discretion), threats of violence (not to yn) CW: Sir title, creampie, anal penetration, dacryphilia, yn referred to as “darling” “toy” “girl” “cocksleeve”, mentions of marriage and family.

Genuinely idk what ya’ll want me to tag there.

Normal disclaimers, this is fiction not a resource manual for how to do literally anything in life. This does not represent ANYONE real or fictional. It’s a fantasy AU FFS if you cannot figure that out I cannot help you. Please do not interact if you are under 18. This content is meant for 18+ readers so by continuing below the cut you agree that you are 18+. Also not proofread sorry, I’m a gremlin in a human suit.

Part 1 | Part 2 you might wanna read. i’m not your mom.

For the TW and spoilers I guess? There is a third party who has yn touch him inappropriately without their consent or knowledge. She asks the boys not to do anything about it. They EMPHATICALLY want to do something about it but respect yn’s wishes.

Hyunjin’s sleepy rustling barely registers in your exhausted body, one of his legs kicking out from under the sheet. The room is lit with rich blues and pinks, calling in the morning light. Sweat sticks to your forearms where they press into his side, a small way to prove to yourself it’s all really happened, it’s all physically real. Felix is far more wrapped around you, nose and forehead planted in between your shoulder blades, light breaths running down your spine. An arm drapes over your waist, hand slid between your breasts, his knees slotted behind yours. The throb of his cock, perfectly slotted between your cheeks tightens a knot in your stomach. You push back against him, wiggling happily. Sure enough he responds with a gravely moan, abs flexing as he rolls his hips back at you. His thumb finds your nipple, lazily flicking back and forth over the sensitive nub. Slowly your lower halves slip and slide against each other, still tired from the night prior. Winding each other up little by little. He’s never been as interested in your chest as he is right now. Pinching and pulling and playing with your pebbled nipples, measuring your jittering hips to perfect his slow torture. Your clit throbs as you whine and wiggle your toes to relieve the tension growing in your gut. It does nothing. Felix is a small explosion of a half chuckle. “Sir?” “You can use my name if you prefer.” His voice is huskier in the morning, vocal cords still not used to moving. “Sir, I need it-” your voice bounces as you tap your toe against his shin, pleading. He plucks his hand from your breast, tracing down your side to the cleft of your ass, pulling apart your cheeks, cold air hitting your cunt, stale cum seeping from you still. Teeth grazing your shoulder, he slides in easily, the whisper of a groan vibrating from his mouth to your arm. With a shift of the covers and a slide of your knee, you're open to the morning light, his cock languidly rubbing against your inner walls. “See doll, simply ask your future kings, we will provide.” Neither of you are in a hurry to climax, the carnal need having been spent the night before, drifting between conscious and semi conscious as your eyelids flutter. You think you orgasm, it’s so gentle in comparison to your soul rending affairs it feels like a different beast entirely. A wave of pleasure washes over you like a summer tide lapping at your ankles. Your eyes roll back with a sigh, his fingers lightly circling your clit. “Is this real?” You wonder aloud, full body sunk into his chest.

“As real as you want it to be.” You nearly jump out of your skin, Hyunjin’s smiling face turned to you, still puffy from sleep, naked and obviously aroused. “Sir! I’m - sorry, Hyunjin? Sir.” Somehow you sound both panicked and sheepish, stuffed cunt on full display. “I didn’t think-” Your train of thought is interrupted with a harsh thrust, Felix’s cock lodging itself straight into your g-spot. “Don’t be mad ‘Jinnie, you’ve been awake the whole time, you could’ve joined.” Felix chuckles. You stare incredulously at Hyunjin, who shrugs with a smile. “What can I say, darling. I love watching you,” his face softens, hand reaching out to stroke your hair, “and asking for us all by yourself. Such a good girl.” “Do you want him to join?” Felix purrs in his low bass that makes your eyelids flutter. “As a peace offering.” “Yes,” you gasp as he pulls out, the sudden emptiness almost uncomfortable. Felix rolls you to face him, “but I'm feeling a little greedy today, if that’s alright,” he states with a boyish grin, pecking you on the nose before hitching your top leg over his hip.

Rolling to face him, Felix kisses your nose, taking your top leg over his hip and slotting his cock inside you again. Hyunjin’s weight shifts the mat behind you slightly as he closes in on the two of you, hands roaming your buttocks and low back. “Our toy has gotten bold,” his breath is as warm as his skin, fanning over the back of your neck. “Darling just relax and let us take care of your every whim,” Hyunjin purrs. “Now that you’ve asked, we can provide.” Another shift in the bed that you barely notice, Felix’s face buried in your chest as he slowly and sloppily thrusts up into you. The telltale clink of the glass vase of oil uncorking, glugs of the slick liquid sloshing in the container. The press of Hyunjins fingers to your other hole sends a shiver up your spine. “S-sir?” “Yes Darling?” You gulp, “just nervous.” Whining you feel the heat of embarrassment spread across your face. “Oh darling,” Hyunjin plants a kiss directly between your shoulder blades. Two well oiled fingers slip against you as Felix slows. You can’t help but wiggle back against them. “It was nice last time right? Your kings weren’t wrong were they?” Your head buzzes with lust, eyelids drooping in the haze. “Sirs were right. Always right.” “So you’d like to? I need to hear you want this.” “Please Hyunjin Sir, I want it. Just, slow please.” A short puff of a chuckle escapes from his nose, “oh darling, of course.” He mutters, a finger slipping past the tight ring of muscle, a protracted moan ripping through the morning air. “Keep doing that, I think she likes it Hyune.” Felix groans, slowing even further with his thrusts. “I can tell that by your cute little cunt, doll.” With gentle touches and slow patient progress Hyunjin’s fingers work you open. It’s easy to lean into his sure guidance, letting the two of them work together to adjust the tangle of legs to better present you. The heat of the sun streaming through the window keeps your skin warm as the three of you lay exposed and unhurried. No words spoken, the space between breaths filling with hushed moans and light giggles. Your world feels like a perfect golden bubble, glinting as it drifts happily along on the early summer breeze. Soon enough slender fingers are replaced by the blunt tip of Hyunjin’s cock, pressing steadily into the space prepared. Your breath quickens as the pressure stirs your guts, no matter how much he did with his fingers it still was a tight fit. “Deep breaths darling, you taking us both so well. Just a little more, love.” Hyunjin's voice floats dreamily in the sunlight. Felix’s short but strong fingers massaging your hips, indenting your skin as he molds your flesh. “That’s it, good little darling,” Hyunjin groans as his hips meet the cleft of your ass. “Really full,” you burble, clinging onto Felix in front of you. “‘S good tho’. ‘S nice.” Head swimming you can barely compute thoughts into words. Very much at the mercy of two royals there's no place you’d rather be stuck. The heat and pheromones buzz in your brain and drown out lingering worries and doubts leaving it empty, quickly filled with the sounds of the Prince’s slow labored breaths. Laying on your side you don’t bounce much, instead letting the two men lazily shift your hips back and forth, sliding you between their bodies. When one drags the other pushes and vice versa.

“I can’t anymore-” Felix whines. “She’s so wet. Fuck she’s squeezing-” “You can go longer,” Hyunjin grunts. “She’s not done.” Purring in your ear he whispers, “darling, cum for us. Show your Prince’s how good they’ve been to you.” Hands snaking around you to play with your chest, the tickle in your ear has you shaking already. Felix’s breath catches, strangled in his chest. His hands grip you harshly, “oh-” he mutters as his face open in shock. His cock throbs, pushed up and fit as snugly as possible, cum flooding as your walls spasm. “I’m sorry,” he whines, “cumming.” Something about his whined apology, the way his eyes slowly blinked open marveling at you like some sort of precious thing he feared he’d disappointed, it flips something in you. Your vision darkens as your whole body clenches, gasping and flooding the man inside of you. Juices practically drench them as you spasm. Teeth bump against your shoulder as you feel Hyunjin’s lips attach, sucking a purple mark into your skin as he folds forward, emptying himself as well, a cascade effect of your release. Exhaustion overtakes you, fading in and out of consciousness as the two men adjust you and clean you and come back to lay with you. Happy bubble. Shining happy sunlight. Your skins pressed together feel tacky with dried sweat but you don’t mind. And neither do they. They don’t mind the mess and the grime or the work.

The work.

Eyebrows furrowing you think about the work that you aren’t doing today. The small chores that stack up to make bigger headaches. You want to lay and bask but the nagging thought won’t leave you alone. The reminder that your absence would be noted. Your legs have never felt heavier as you try to pull yourself down the middle of the resting men so as to not disturb them. “Stay,” Felix mutters groggily, hugging you tighter momentarily before returning to slumber. Gently you roll him to his back, letting his arm slide off your body and gingerly crawling over the other outstretched on the bed. As you swing your legs over the edge of the bed you watch your feet dangle over the ornate floors. Calloused from years of standing, they’re workers' feet. A permanent crack in your nail bed that goes unpolished is further proof of this. “I’m sorry for the offense of my trodding but I must make myself scarce,” you think wryly as your toes touch down as lightly as you can muster. A hand grabs your forearm. “Would you stay if we commanded it?” “That’s my duty sir,” you say without looking at him. “Must we always command it?” With a sigh you turn into him, Hyunjin, a measure of sadness in his eyes. “I wish I could tell you that you didn’t have to command it, sir. I wish I could just stay as you request. I wish I could stay of my own desire. In my world, a command means everything, sir, and desire nothing.” He nods, hand trailing down to interlace with your fingers. “And would it be so terrible if I commanded it?” Hyunjin flashes a smile at you “Not so terrible to me, but you are the Prince of a small kingdom and a host of a castle, so you must think of others.” Hyunjin flops dramatically backwards onto the mattress, jostling Felix. “Fine. My darling must leave me. I can’t monopolize her time. I see. I understand. If you must.” He whines. “A kiss first. A command. You must kiss me.” Leaning over you first kiss Felix’s outstretched palm, watching him as he reflexively curls. Then you look at Hyunjin, lips pursed dramatically at you, waiting. “One kiss sir. Exactly as you commanded, are you sure you want that kind of kiss?” He leans up, hand extending to pull you closer by the back of your neck. Lips locking with his, you both press into the kiss, unwilling to be the first to break. You chuckle as you leave, tearing a hole in your heart as you close the door.

No longer new to the routine of the monthly meeting, you’d become familiar with the quirks and habits of the usual attendees. Those who were lucky to live close frequently settled in early while those who lived in the farthest reaches would sprint in just in time for the Princes to sit down from their small talk. As the season progressed your uniform adapted as well, much to their delight. Layers paired down to a simple sweat-wicking chemise, corset, top and knee length skirt. Still plain but lighter during the summer heat. Easier to put on, easier to remove.

This month was different. You took note of a new member, sitting crooked in his plush chair, chest bare but shoulders covered in a rich velvet cloak. Not the usual fashion of the kingdom or her provinces. Stubble was already pricking his skin and tinting his jawline, his mouth quirked to the side, there was something in his smile that turned your stomach. Not the fluttering flip that the Princes gave you of excitement and anticipation, it was a jittery yank violently downwards of dread. ”I’d have thought to come to court more frequently had I known you were hiding away treasures as this in this stuffy old castle,” the man comments to the Princes. Felix’s normally cheery smile and bright eyes fading, setting into stone. ”We’ve made no effort to hide her,” Hyunjin plasters a cold smile to his face, ever the diplomat. “As you know, our kingdom has always had an open door to yours, you only need knock.” The Princes watch in a tense uneasy silence as you refill the man’s goblet. The only noise that breaks through is the steady stream of dark liquid splashing into the vessel. From this distance you can tell he’s at least two decades your senior, glittering silver streaks flecking through his hair. You can feel his fingertips brushing the backs of your thighs, clammy on your warm skin. He’s careful to go just high enough to meet the hem of your skirts, not high enough to be obvious except to yourself and him. Alert bells ring in your head but you hold firm and focused. The second it fills you bow shortly, just enough to pass as polite, and go to skitter back to the safety of your corner. To hide where you know best.

But he grabs you by the elbow pulling you back into place. ”How much?” Hyunjin’s vacant smile falters as both Princes stare at the man. ”How much for the slave girl.” Felix splutters, “she’s a human, she’s not for sale.” ”Everything has a price my naive boys,” he laughs, turning to you. “How much?” Eyes flitting from your princes to this man, you shake like a leaf. His hands move boldly; traveling the front of your thighs, visible now to the princes. ”I asked, how much? What’s the price for a lick of that sweet little cunt of yours?” ”Miss,” Felix’s voice booms in the chamber. “Do you want that man to handle you as he is?” You shake your head swiftly, yanking yourself back from him. ”The next appendage that so much as brushes against her apron will be lopped off and fed to the pigs,” Hyunjin's voice cuts through, direct to the man’s ears, striking like a snake. The court sits on a knife's edge, teetering precariously, waiting for someone to act. The visitor smirks, slowly lowering his hand to his lap with the shake of his head. “Now can you behave yourself long enough to sort out the new agreements or have you been so enfeebled by your long day’s travel that your brain is soft and you need to be excused to rest?” The man smiles, eyes cold, “little princes, all of this bluster is not necessary. It was a simple question, that is all. We can proceed as planned.”

No matter how hard you try you can’t escape the feeling of being watched. His lingering gaze torments you in your corner. You had trained years and years to be as invisible as possible and now you were so clearly not. Not just to the Princes, but to others. Others whose attention you didn’t want. You’d been good at it too, making yourself small and silent and unseen, or you’d thought. Now you weren’t so sure. Your leg bounces nervously. Hyunjin, you notice, seems particularly distracted by the visitor, back stiff and straight, eyes darting around the room. It’s difficult to tell exactly what the Princes were saying but by body language Hyunjin is on edge, clearly pressing the agenda forward at a rapid pace. The visitor sips his wine leisurely, staring. Making a show of the empty cup as his hand jangles it around, pinched between his thumb and forefinger. Hyunjin almost breaks then, jaw tensing as you approach the man. The rest of the visitors and advisors don’t notice as you slip between the seats with your vase. “These big mean boys keep you locked away?” His voice turns your stomach sour. “It’s okay you can tell me. Just whisper sweet nothings in my ear.” You shake your head in a small tight back and forth, “no. My state is well, thank you.” The man’s nostrils flare. “Tell me girl, have you ever seen such riches as these?” His hand dives into the deep pocket of his velvet overcoat, pulling from it a wad of bills and tossing them on the table. “Can you even comprehend the amount of wealth I have?” “No,” you whisper. “Please sir, is this all you require? I don’t want to disturb the meeting.” Slowly heads and eyes are turning to you as you stand, sticking out like a sore thumb from the rest of the seated table. What happens next happens in slow motion. You watch as the man’s hand reaches forward to grab the goblet but instead of grasping the stem, he punches it out from underneath, tipping his glass towards himself, sending the contents spilling forward onto his lap. Without thinking you grab a napkin and begin to dab at the bubbles of liquid before they absorb fully into a variety of thick, plush, fabrics. It was the training, the years of muscle memory to protect the image of the court, to care for the guests of the kingdom, to remedy any ills that could potentially fall on your head, that kicked into gear. His lecherous smirk doesn’t even register fully until his low gruff chuckle passes by your ear. “It’s okay everyone, just a small accident,” he waves to the hushed table to continue their discussions. Then he turns to you, voice low enough for only you to hear, “such an eager little wench. Take some change for your troubles,” his hand covers yours, big and rough, taking the napkin from you and gesturing towards the stack of money on the table. “See how your state likes that.” You feel something flex below your fingers. Wrenching your hand away and gathering it to your chest with the other, you feel sick. You don’t want to know what you felt. The man gathers the money and slides it into the front of your apron with the same lascivious smile plastered on his face. “There you go, girl, for doing such a good job.”

Lips cemented shut for fear of the nausea worming in your gut becoming something more, you sit back at your stool and pray. This room had been a sight of many unreal feeling events but this was something else. Front teeth biting the inside of your lip you fight the tears welling in your eyes. You can’t bring yourself to look at them, the Princes, radiant as ever at the front of the room. Instead your eyes search the room for any excuse to leave first, break protocols and abandon your position, any emergency that needs immediate attention would do. But nothing appears. For the rest of the meeting there are no hiccups, not that there ever were. The rest of the castle knew just how important this meeting was and acted accordingly like a well oiled machine, practiced and precise. Except for you. No amount of oil could make up for the misshapen way you felt. No amount of elbow grease or pressure could fix it. Nothing had made you more certain of that than this. The outline of the wad of bills in your white linen apron reminds you of your place. Another person would’ve found a better way out of it, or wouldn’t be in this position to begin with. Your body holds itself so stiffly you start to vibrate, imperceptible to everyone but yourself.

The meeting wraps up, advisors slowly meander past your post, some lost in deep discussion, others give you small nods of thanks until few remain. You steal yourself, waiting for the moment you know is coming. Eyes to the floor you can still feel him standing slowly, footsteps heavy and elongated, slowly making his way, server in tow, to your stool. You can hear him take a breath to speak as a third pair of footsteps intercedes. “If you have a request, allow me to personally attend to it.” An angel stands with his back to you, separating the man from your line of sight. Your angel, swooping in to save you. Prince Felix, unmistakable from his wide shoulders and small waist. He walks perpendicular to the man, continuing to block you from him as he corrects course to the door. He’s caught and by the Prince no less. Though you can’t see him you know he can’t act without causing more trouble than you’re worth. “Ah well you see my clothes are still a bit damp and-” “-and I will have an outfit more befitting the climate sent to your room where you can undress and bathe yourself in privacy.” Their voices grow faint as Felix walks with him out the door and into the hall, leaving no room for arguing. Finally the room is quiet, your eyes search for Hyunjin who is uncharacteristically missing. So you clean. Gathering glasses and plates and papers. Separating and stacking. Carefully placing onto trays and those trays onto the cart. Finally carting the dishes into the small auxiliary kitchen, the opposite direction of the way you normally leave with the Princes. Pushing the door open with your back and pulling the cart with you over the threshold, the happy sound of water sloshing into the large basin of the sink greets your ears.

“How much did he give you,” the water turns off abruptly, before you have a chance to turn. The tone of his voice could cut glass like butter. You drop into a low curtsey out of shock. “Prince Hyunjin sir! Why-where-here?” “How much did he give you?” Hyunjin’s shoulders hunch up to his ears as his palms press into the lip of the sink, biceps flexed and knuckles white. “I don’t- I didn’t count. I didn’t want to touch it. I couldn’t, sir i could never, I would never-” He whips around, hands still damp, he reaches into your apron pocket and tosses the bills onto the small prep table in the corner. “Count them. Count them and he’ll get as many lashes.” You gasp. “Sir, no. I can’t. Lashes? For what?” “He insulted you. Therefore he insulted me. Therefore he insulted the kingdom and should be punished accordingly.” “Sir. No.” Your stomach flips as you shrink into yourself. “Not me. Not me at all. I’m not worth the incident.” His eyes look wild with anger. You wish more than anything you could evaporate under the heat of his fury. “Why not? You’re a human. You have dignity.” “To a powerful man like that, I’m nothing. It’s his right.” Hyunjin’s words have pushed you back, thighs and palms holding the small table behind you as he stalks forward. “Not here. Not in this Kingdom. Not in my Kingdom. Is that what we are to you? Your Princes are just powerful men exercising their right?” “No! Sir-” “Stop calling me that. We aren’t in court or the bedroom.” “Hyunjin.” It isn’t you who says it. Mouth ready and open to heed his request, instead Felix, at the doorway, speaks his brother’s name sternly. “You’re scaring her. Look at how small she’s made herself. If she doesn’t want us to do anything, we can’t do anything.” Felix is right, you’ve curled reflexively around your middle as best you can, body naturally protecting your vital parts. With a gulp a flood of tears spill silently to your cheeks. “He tricked her, Felix.” Hyunjin's full attention turns to him. Your breath stays held as you watch their showdown. “He tricked her into touching him. Then he tried to pay her for it. Tried to take her away from us. It was bad enough when he did it to our faces but to try to coerce her during court? Assault her? As though we don’t take care of our people. It was an insult to her autonomy. It was an insult to our authority!” Felix doesn’t budge in the face of his tirade, resolute.“Take a walk, cool off. It’s equally her right to ask us not to interfere.” Hyunjin opens his mouth to fight but Felix heads him off. “As you are so concerned with her rights, you agree, it’s her right to ask us to not interfere.” His mouth flaps open and closed soundlessly. For a second you think maybe he’s going to haul off and punch Felix. Instead he pushes past him into the hallway, not missing the opportunity to knock shoulders fiercely. You can hear his frustration echoing down the hall, exasperated groans and angered shouts rattling the stones of the foundation.

If a black hole appeared and sucked you into it in a violent vortex of wind you wouldn’t be surprised. You’d be thankful for the quick and certain death at the hands of a celestial entity that was not made of flesh and bone and blood. Face still streaked with tears your body responds with automatic protocol. Most painfully, despite it all, dishes must be done, time stops for no one, not even powerful men. And so you start cleaning, soapy water still warm from Hyunjin’s washing. Each glass, used or not, gets carefully dipped and swirled around. The silverware clatters to the bottom to soak in the suds. There’s a calmness in the rhythm of it. Reach for the glass, grab the stem, dip the goblet, swish the soapy water, rinse with new water, place upside down to drain, repeat. Reach, grab, dip, swish, rinse, place, repeat. “He means well, you know. It’s just seldom that anyone asks us to not do anything,” Felix sighs. His shoulder touches yours as he hunches over the sink with you, grabbing a glass for himself and following your lead. “Please,” you whisper barely audible above the soothing sound of the water, “you really shouldn’t-” “I’m just a Prince, I’m not totally and completely incapable of household chores. Besides, our Hyunjin is not the only one who hates to sit on the sidelines.” Tears bubble again, you’re not sure why. You don’t fight him about it, instead leaning into him as the two of you work to clear the pile. He doesn’t remark on your crying, softly humming as he works. You almost feel like a normal couple, not a Prince and a member of his housestaff. Slowly your head leans over onto his shoulder, his long blonde hair tickling your ear. With two people the remainder of the cart is cleared quickly, which you are thankful for. Pure emotional exhaustion fatigues your brain. You hardly notice how much weight you’re lending to Felix until he shrugs, your head bobbing with him. He’s midway through wiping his hands on his trousers, normally you’d be horrified to see the dirty dishwater soak into the richly dyed fabric but now you simply offer your apron to him. “You’re tired,” Felix softly smiles. “May I?” His waterlogged thumb wipes the dried tears at the bottom of your jawline. You nod into his palm. The small gesture has tears welling at your lash line again. You love his care, you love his smile, you love him so much it hurts and catches in your chest. Felix tuts. “I only want tears if they’re from pleasure.” “Then make it so,” you sniff. “Make them happy. Make me happy.” Your voice trembles and threatens to crack. Through watery vision you stare fiercely into his eyes. His expression looking back at you is so soft in contrast, eyes kind but troubled. He chuckles, “quite the demand. I’m only a Prince but I'll see what I can do.”

The moment you feel the helplessness threaten to collapse inside of you his lips catch yours. Wet and messy your lips, teeth, and tongues clash against each other as if by force you could express the sincerity of your feelings. “I love you, my doll,” Felix manages to growl into your open mouth. Hips pinning yours to the counter you pant to catch your breath even for a moment. It smells like soap and skin and sunshine as he covers your face with small pecks. “If my love alone could protect you, you’d have no stronger shelter.” “But it can’t Sir-” his lips dip down the column of your throat, a fresh hot wave of arousal traveling down your spine with a shudder. “And you know this, how? How many Princes have loved you like I?” He holds you just far enough away so you can see the sparkle of his eyes. “None.” “Then you don’t know for sure that it can’t.” “But it’s not--!” “Then join me in pretend,” he kisses your warm cheek. “What use is logic and reason if all it does is make you sad? Just for now, just me.” With a pointed nip at your neck he forces a moan from you. It’s difficult for your rational side to escape how overwhelmingly good it feels to be with him, how eagerly he kisses every inch of skin, how consumed he seems by you, his slight of hand tricks that seem to magic you into a more undressed state. In the warmth of his embrace feelings pool and flow over, drowning that small voice that tells you to be critical. One hand slipping up your skirt, he kneads the crease between your ass and thigh, fingers slowly working their way towards your entrance. The other pulls hastily at your bodice strings, not bothering to fully unlace anything that didn’t need it. He hitches your leg up over his hip, his knee pressing into the cupboards below the sink, arm looping around your thigh to support you. “Britches, undo them, now” he pants as he leans the two of you back. His length throbs with your swollen cunt. Still nowhere near as deft with his toggles as he was with your ties, your hands fumble over the buttons confining him within the cotton panel. Each slip of a button from its hole increases the heat of anticipation in your gut, as though this were the first time you’d seen him. The swollen tip of his thick length poking over the draped fabric has you giddy, hand automatically migrating to circle it. “Did I say you could touch?” His face scrunches, fighting an airy whine. Fingers of one hand still fumbling with buttons while the thumb of the other glosses the beaded precum over the spongy head you watch him struggle to keep his strict facade. “Please?” With a deep breath he forces the air from his lungs in one guttural groan, “I can’t refuse my doll now can I? Not when you ask so sweetly. Not when you’re practically dripping on me.” “I need you, please, sir, please,” his cock nearly fully out, a few buttons separating you from him. “How many buttons do you even need,” you grumble. “Fuck the fucking buttons,” Felix perches you on the edge of the sink, teetering precariously as he hastily pulls the breaches the rest of the way down, shirt completely untucking. Your skirts get shoved up around your waist before he pulls you to him, cock searching blindly beneath the flood of fabric for your core. Catching on the muscle, with a sudden prod his blunt head slips past. You wince and yelp, “Felix!” Brushing your flyaways back he kisses you, “okay? You okay? I’m so sorry usually we- I know I- I want to take my time love but-” “I’m fine, just sudden, just big,” you bite your lip and try to breathe. Felix holds you closer to steady the two of you, rocking the rest of his length up as you slowly sink down, all the while murmuring praise against your throat. You feel delirious as his full length fills you, clit grinding against the caught mixture of fabrics of his shirt and your skirt. “Feels so good.” Your skin buzzes with endorphins. “Felix you feel so good.” A sob catches. “Pretty doll, why are you crying?” He kisses your trembling shoulders. Bouncing you up on his hips, speared on his cock he coaxes the tears free with each percussive measured thrust. “Hap-py, real-ly hap-py,” you burble, words broken up by air forced from your lungs. “Fu-ull and ha-ppy.” His arms add to the thrusting, pulling you down faster than gravity onto him. Usually one to reply, Felix pours his full focus into pummeling your cunt, your single leg barely adding support as you wobble on your tippy toe. The leg held on his hip tensing and shaking. Fingers digging into his shoulder blades and wrinkling his shirt you cum. He seems to reveal in the feeling of your cunt working him, kissing you with more fervor as it pulses around him, happy to clench around something so thick. Eyelids fluttering and eyes rolling you’re Gulping air and overstimulated he doesn’t let up, instead hammering into you as he chases his high. Every ounce of strength you can muster is diverted to withstanding the smack of his hipbones against your ass. His hips stutter and pace slows, you can hear his heart; a comforting fluttering thudding part of him that reminds you that you’re both just flesh and blood and emotions in squishy little bodies. The part of him you like most maybe, the soft tender man that lives in the shell of a mighty ordained being. You don’t even realize you are whimpering in his ear until you hear the door click and shift squeakily on its hinges. You duck your head into his chest, trying to curl completely into his shadow. “Get. OUT.” Felix practically roars, mid climax and not waiting on formalities. The door slams shut quickly before you have a chance to peek over your lover's shoulder. He looks more lion-like than he’d ever, halo of golden hair wild and mane like, panting and hunched over you like prey he’d feasted on. “Do you think-” you gulp and pant. “No. If anything they saw my ass.” “What if-” “Then we handle it. Together.”

Hair fixed, clothes smoothed and righted, you head back to your room in the soft glow of the hallway. The only reminder of your day is the slow trickle of cum streaking your thighs. You suppose all lovers do this to some extent, waddle their way to their own beds until they’re married. Was there even a chance of that with him, with them? Or was the inevitable end of your tryst a quiet disappearance into wider society. Standing in the full ground level kitchen you stir your herbal concoction. Queen Anne’s Lace, willow, pennyroyal, myrrh, and rue. A mash of plant parts from roots to seeds all put together, a well-tread recipe at this point, still horribly bitter to swallow and best chugged when cool. It could be worse, for you all that happened was light bleeding and cramping. You’d heard for some the potion made them bedridden for days. It was inconspicuous as long as you refilled what you’d taken from the kitchen garden. Still you can’t help your burning curiosity as to who may have seen you or what may be said. Taking extra hours in the kitchen, assisting with the laundry, really adding any of the known gossip spots to your routine of chores. Strangely nothing. Not a peep of anyone, much less a Prince, using the auxiliary kitchen for auxiliary activities. You’d at least expected speculative whispers of who the man could’ve been. In particular the laundry day gossip had revolved around one of the stablehands' sexual conquests, questions of paternity of a noble woman’s eldest child, and whatever was happening at the far away chantry. So maybe a consensual romp in a kitchen wasn’t interesting enough without hints at who it might be. As an upside your extra hours had grown your estimation in your matron’s eyes, always pleased to see your head down, nose buried in work, keeping yourself out of trouble. “I’d had my doubts some days,” you overheard her speaking with the head of the staff, “but she’s really taken to work like flies to honey.” But flies who feed themselves fat on honey stick and drown.

Normally beds were made in pairs but your partner was sick in bed that day. Doubled over with cramps she was in no state to lift mats and shake out duvets with you. “Really I can-” she sat on the edge of her small cot, one arm wrapped around her stomach, shoulders hunched over. Practically shaking with pain, you carefully helped her back down. “It’s fine, I’ll make up for the both of us.” Face contorted in pain she nods. “Please, ask anything of me and I’ll help you.” “It‘s fine,” you assure her, “it’ll be better than nothing.” “Really, I refuse to be a burden. If you ever-” an anguished clench of her jaw interrupts the thought process. Refilling her water jug and placing it in arms reach, you leave her small room. Some day you may have to use that offer but for now you had to get going. The work wasn’t easy or efficient but it was better done alone than not at all and better alone than dragging your friend around like a ball and chain. Carefully tucking opposing diagonal corners of the bottom sheet in before rotating and attending to the other pair, you work methodically through the upper guest rooms. In the summer heat the heavy shades are draw and rooms dark to preserve what cool night air you could. Still the heavy work left you panting and sweaty, hair frizzing in different wild directions. The thin layer of dried sweat reactivated by new beads as you progress through the rooms. You sit on the edge of a half made bed to catch your breath. Limbs starting to hurt and drag you focus on the promise of a nice cool bath at the end of the day. You think about how the water would prickle against your overheated skin, numbing as you soak the pain of the day away. The air wicking the droplets off your exposed parts and cooling you further. Eyes closed the power of suggestion works it’s magic to refresh you even now.

“Look at this darling present left all alone,” Hyunjin’s voice calls in a cheerful sing song as he closes the door behind him, leaving the two of you in near darkness. Your heart beats wildly. “Prince Hyunjin, your royal highness?” You respond into the black. A sigh from behind you has you spin on the top sheet. “Are we so unfamiliar even now?” You wish you could see his expression, but he sounds almost sad. “My darling, my gift, my love, I’m sorry.” The bed bends in behind you, his voice drawing nearer. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” “Can I speak honestly?” You mutter sheepishly. “Of course darling. Always. Forever.” You gulp down to ease the clench of your throat, “our worlds are so different. Yes they intersect but there are parts of mine that you’ll never understand and parts of yours I’ll never be privy to.” “I-we know. But we-” “Please. I need to finish before I regret this,” you take another breath, silence settling across the two of you. “I don’t know where this is going. I don’t know what I am to you. Either of you. And you can’t protect me from what may come of whatever we are. And I don’t want what may happen to hurt you. And no matter what we do you are who you are and I am who I am and we just- and, and, and-” you search for the words to express the depths of the helplessness you feel. Instead a sob rips the sudden silence apart at the seams. “Oh my pretty darling, may I-” you feel him inch closer. You nod wordlessly, he doesn’t need to complete the request. You’re not even sure he can see you but your throat is so tight you can’t even squeak out a yes so you have to hope he can feel the slight bounce of the bed. Like a ray of god shining through the break in the curtains a beam of sun illuminates a sliver of bed. It hits his arm first, muscular and bare. As he leans towards you the strip travels his face, the area around his lips looks red and puffy, his nose too. The slight glimmer of his cheek tells you he’s been crying. Shoulder dipping as the weight of his cheek pours over it your head naturally falls onto his. “Have you thought about country life?” His question trails into the dark nothingness. “I think about it a lot. Taking a cart and a horse and a wife onto some unsettled land. I’d still be a king even then. Just of a much smaller domain.” “You would. And would you rule over your wife then? And children?” “And cows and chickens too, and any of their babies,” he chuckles wryly. “Why? Would it bother you?” You sigh and shrug him from your shoulder, collapsing back into the half made bed. “I don’t know, my lord, I think I’d like to be a partner in a marriage more than a subject.” “My lord? You’ve gotten so cheeky,” he says with a swat to your thigh. “Sir. Prince. His royal highness-” Hyunjin lets out a deep sigh, a burst of air hitting you as he collapses backwards on the bed. The air itself is hot. Laying there in silence you feel his fingertips brush the back of your hand lightly, asking for permission from you. “Hyunjin.” “Darling?” “If that’s what you want-” He grips your hand so tightly it stops you. “You know what my father -our- Felix and my father said when Felix joined our family? The decree?” Your heart pounds out of your chest. In all your years within the castle no one dared to broach the subject to the point where you could’ve sworn it was a punishable offense. You of course were too young to remember those years clearly, shortly after the passing of the sister queen and king to your land. Not related by blood but of bonds much deeper. “Something about no more queens to follow but I thought-” “None. We may have heirs but neither Felix nor myself is promised a queen. Nor can we make a person a queen. No more Queens.” He’s clearly eager but you don’t quite follow. “So if you marry…” your words trail slowly, waiting for him to finish your thought. “They would be our partner. But nothing to the land. Only ours. Not a subject nor royalty. Just ours.” His hand shakes yours, he’s either excited or scared and you aren’t quite sure, even with your eyes adjusted to the dark. You gulp, “but surely if they already were a princess or a queen…” “They lose all status. Making us as princes, virtually worthless to their kingdoms.” You’re not sure exactly what he is saying or why he is saying it to you now or what it means for any of the litany of worries you’d unleashed only minutes earlier. Pressing your lips together you try to follow his line of thought. “Darling, I will die if I have to spell it out,” he sighs, exasperated. You remain silent. The mattress tremors with the shifting of his anxiety. “We’re cursed Princes. A death to Princesses and useless to those seeking to increase their social capital. Please. Think.” He rolls so that his slight frame leans over you, eyes staring directly down into yours for the first time since the incident. “What do you want from us? What do you want most of all from this relationship? If it’s Queenship, we cannot grant this. If it’s power, we cannot guarantee it.”

Hardly breathing or maybe breathing too much, you can’t decide between the two, the tension holds invisible in the air, buoyed by the humidity. Gulping hard you watch him watch you. Study you. Eyes flitting over your features searching for your answer. “Love.” You blurt, cracking under his intensity. “Care. You. Both of you.” Hyunjin leans over, eyes crossing as he closes in on you, his hair curtaining down and tickling your cheeks. Slowly he tilts to the side, lips meeting your cheek. “Good,” he whispers, lips tickling the shell of your ear, sending a shiver through your spine. Sweat droplets travel down your body soon followed by his hands, carefully stripping you. As Hyunjin works to undo the various ties you realize his hands are shaking ever so slightly. It was always Felix helping you from your garments, he was faster, more sure. Hyunjin was more cautious, as though he could rip your bodice from your body with the wrong flick of his wrist. The moments between your breaths the world feels still. You can hear him breathing too, holding for a moment as he fully inhales and again as his lungs empty, deep slow breaths. “Sorry if I-” you mutter a half hearted apology. “Sorry? For?” “I’m sweaty. I probably smell. I’ve been cleaning all day-” Interlocking his fingers with yours he presses another kiss to your cheek. “It’s hot. You’re hot. That’s all.” Releasing your hand he slips down the outside of your thigh, tracing your outline on the covers. “It’ll get on the bed,” you giggle as his fingers run across your skin, tickling all the way. “And?” His voice is cocky as you spread your legs easily at the mere press of his knee. “I just made it. It’s a waste.” “If you sleep here, is it a waste?” Hips slotting between your thighs, warm skin to warm skin, still the upwards sweep of his fingertips against your shoulder leaves a wake of goosebumps on your body. “I can’t sleep here I-” “If we sleep here?” Hyunjin quickly interjects. Heavy and hot his erection lays waiting on your belly, pulsing as want courses through his veins. “Together. You’ll sleep here with me? Then it won’t be a waste.” “Hyunjin, we have beds. Our own-” “Then the floor.” He kisses you hurriedly, “I want to have you. Now.” Another day of half work. You sigh. Heart and head tugging you in opposite directions again. Kissing the tops of your knees he waits attentively for you. “Hyunjin…the floor?” “Anywhere. Anything. Let me take care of you.” The kisses move down your inner thighs, slowly enough that you could stop him if you wanted. “The castle won’t fall apart if a few beds are less than perfect, darling, trust me.” Hyunjin gazes up at you, plush lips hovering above your mound, hair curtaining down to you. He looks like a lion hunched over downed prey. To be wanted so desperately, so recklessly, excites you, sending shivers coursing through your body like white hot fire. “Sir?” Your voice shakes in anticipation. “May I touch you?” A short burst of hair escapes his nose, mouth closing and lips quirking into a small smile. “Darling, whatever you want from me. Whatever you need from me. Take it.”

Fingers threading through his hair, pushing it back, your gazes lock as he lowers to kiss your cunt. A spark seemingly from his lips sends tingles to the base of your spine. Tongue dipping between your folds his breath fans across you. Your grip on his hair tightens as you moan, tugging as he tries to dive deeper. The intrusion of his tongue probing has you squirming and squealing. “Darling?” He emerges, chin shiny. “Are you okay?” You both pant, staring. “I’m sweaty…it can’t be…I’m sorry.” “If you weren't delicious I wouldn’t, darling. I am a Prince after all.” Licking his lips, his eyes narrow, “if it’s alright with you, I’d like to eat what’s mine.” He nips your inner thigh, leaving a red mark of his presence. Pressed into the mattress his hands hold your trembling thighs apart. He feasts as though you’ve greatly offended him by suggesting any part of you was not the perfect fit for him, growls sending pleasant vibrations into your heat. It’s sloppy and wet as his tongue works to map every fold of your cunt. Giggling and shrieking and moaning your hips buck with abandon against him until you’re both left a mess of spit and slick. Finally you tug at his hair to pull him to you, eyes unable to focus, fingers twitching. Lips locking with his in a messy expression of lust you can taste yourself on him, not unpleasant as you’d feared. A mix of salty sweat and natural sweet musk. “Ride me.” Hyunjin tumbles backwards, pulling you over him. His eyes rake over you, “want to watch you take me. You look so beautiful. Let me watch you.” Quaking like a newborn fawn you straddle his hips, he looks gorgeous with his arms up, cradling his head forward. You lower your palm to his chest to steady yourself and reach between your thighs to position him. The muscles in your legs burn as you slowly take him in, inch by inch. “Gorgeous,” he says as you finally steady on top of him. “Bounce for me darling, I think you can take just a little more.” Hyunjin thrusts upwards, jostling you. Your eyebrows shoot up as he slides just a little deeper, just enough to kiss your cervix, stirring in your gut. “Ha-Hyunjin!” Yelping and moaning as he fucks upwards again, letting gravity push him into you. Craning back with your chest to the sky, your mouth lolls open. Primal need overtakes you as you grind back against him. “That’s it,” he coaxes, “does that feel good darling? Tell me how good I feel.” A shiver runs through you, a hunger that’s indescribable. The ache of absolute need opens the pit of your stomach. A thirst that no water could possibly satiate coats your throat and dries your mouth. “Hyun-hyun-sir,” you babble, “I’m-I need to use you. I’m sorry it feels so good. I feel so good.” Repeating yourself over and over you steadily grind back and forth in time to your own chants. His hands join your hips, helping hold you to him, soft murmured praises fill the fuzz between your ears. Your pace increases steadily as the want grows, body burning and exhausted but driven by the promise of release. The wave of pleasure hits suddenly, the swell rocketing you forward, collapsing to his chest as you shake. The resistance of his cock filling you as your walls clench around him has your vision swimming even in the darkness of your closed eyelids. Holding your hips he continues the slow grind through your orgasm, not enough to push you over the edge again but enough to leave you in a state of bliss. Hyunjin smothers your shoulder in kisses, hands running up and down your body. “You work so hard,” he says with extra honey to his tone, “you did so well.” He half scoops and half rolls you onto your back again. “Since you used me for your pleasure, it’s only fair I do the same, right? What do you say, darling?” “Please, sir,” you mewl, senses lost as your minds float amongst the clouds. “I want nothing more than to be of service.” “Good,” he growls as he practically picks your hips up and stacks them, folding you almost in half. Nothing could prepare you for the vigor with which he fucks down into you. The angle leaves you open and vulnerable, lungs sandwiched in on themselves so you can only manage half breaths. Your legs hang half over you uselessly wobbling even with the support of Hyunjin’s torso and shoulders. The first slam of his cock rams him right into your gspot, nearly knocking the wind from you. Mouth gaping in a wordless scream as his hips pummel against your ass, your body tenses and braces itself as best it can for the onslaught. Your hands search for anything to stabilize, finally reaching up to the headboard just before the top of your head makes contact. Blurry above you Hyunjin’s chest is red and coated in a thin layer of sweat, droplets slowly saturating his blonde locks. Hyunjin pauses, resting his head on the headboard, panting. “No matter how much we fuck you, you’re still so tight. Our darling.” He thrusts pointedly again, smiling as you squirm and squeal, speared by him. “Such a good cocksleeve.” Another thrust that you can feel tickling the inside of your belly button, crying out again. His thumb brushes against your clit as you whine pathetically below him. “Going to cum again, darling?” Hyunjin teases. “Yes, yes, yes, yes,” you repeat, only able to find one word at a time. “Want me to cum in you? Fill you up like the good darling you are?” “Yes,” you continue to chant like a stuck cuckoo clock. Hyunjins thumb rubs more insistently as he slowly drive into you, both sliding easily with the natural lubrication. Inhuman noises gurgle up from your lungs although you are unable to hear them. The rush of dizzying pleasure fills your ears and eyes as your entire body bears down on the man fucking into you with abandon. As you cum his hand retreats, grasping your hips to better steady them for him to pull up as he plunges down. The room evaporates as you feel him spilling into you with a whine of his own. Making true of his word to fill you, a mix of your juices leaking out around him as he slowly presses himself tight to you, leaning to kiss your forehead gently. Small orgasmic aftershocks follow you both, panting and sweating in the dark. Every time he shifts you whine and clench around him, forcing whats left from his withering cock deep into you with a groan. Slowly unfurling, your tendons burn as they release from their uncomfortable position. Hyunjin continues to mouth and nuzzle at your neck and shoulder gently, almost appreciatively. “When we marry,” he whispers, “we’ll keep you stuffed full just like this. All the time. Our darling partner. Our favorite toy. Our love.” “We?” Hyunjin laughs, “didn’t the matron teach you? The Princes get gifts in equal pairs accepting where there is only one, which then will be shared. And you are the only one.”

Thank you all for all the love this unintended series has gotten! I really hope you don’t mind as I take a break to write some other things. Upcoming ideas include an angsty as fuck changbin oneshot, a smutty hongjoong best friend oneshot, and a semi-professional dom!san series. As always i respond well to requests so folks who are 18+ my asks are open. I have some basic rules (18+, i reserve the right to say naaaah) so please don’t be shy. I AM actually on here even though i’m bad at it.

#hyunjin smut #felix smut #skz hyunjin smut #skz felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fanfic #lee felix smut #felix x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #felix fanfic

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bvtbxtch · 6 months

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Movie Marathon | Eddie Munson

Day Thirteen of Kinktober

Summary: Five years after the Ghost face killer has ended his reign of terror on Hawkins, the local movie theatre has decided to host a premiere of the movie based off the massacre. You and Eddie decide to go and revel in his glory.

Pairings: Ghostface!Eddie Munson x Accomplice!Fem!Reader

wc: ~ 3.5k (it feels good to be back)

Content Warnings: This is porn with a plot so like normal, 18+ MDNI!!! Mentions of murder, stabbing, serial murder, blood, knifeplay, public sexual acts, handjobs, fingering, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up pls), sadism and the idea of getting sexual pleasure from pain inflicted on others, choking, anal, squirting

A special thank you to everyone for the warm welcome back from my hiatus <3 y'all are amazing! Specific thank you to @darknesseddiem for being a wonderful friend and helping me through this month!!

Five years had passed since the massacre at Hawkins. Five years since 7 of your classmates died within the span of three weeks, and it has been four years since evidence was planted to put the wrong person away for the crimes. It had been three years since the story was picked up by some big wig film buff and today was the day of the Halloween screening of ‘Scream’.

Coincidentally, it was Halloween five years ago that you and Eddie Munson were rowing out to the middle of Lover’s lake with a weighted box full of bloody clothing, masks and knives. You had nothing to do with the murders, but that hardly mattered now. You were as guilty as your boyfriend now - hiding evidence, harboring a fugitive, obstructing justice, mutilating a corpse… you would go away for almost as long as he would at this point. You were in deep and as much as you hated to admit it, you loved the rush. You adored the desperation that Eddie had for you; begging and pleading for you to help him - to keep his secret, to keep him safe… You would do anything for your boyfriend… You think you have made that pretty clear.

The movies were the icing on Eddie’s revenge porn cake. The seven that were murdered came from Eddie’s own personal list (which made it a surprise the idiot detectives didn’t put two and two together, but that’s what you get when bigwigs from the city come to a small town like Hawkins. You had both made sure protections were in place. Gareth and Jeff were to ensure that they told police about certain band practices and trips to the city for potential work with Corroded Coffin would corroborate with yours and Eddie’s stories.) and the satisfaction of swift justice allowing the teen to get away with it all? It stroked Eddie’s ego a dangerous amount.

His ego had gotten you into this position, and as much as he scared you sometimes, his infatuation with his life’s work intrigued you. He riled you up talking about taking what was his just as much as he excited himself. The nights that he had come back from taking the lives he thought he was owed, you had earth shattering sex. The night you dumped all the evidence in Lover’s lake, he ate you out on the small canoe you rowed out like a man starved, like it would be his last time tasting you. You missed that feeling of desperation, that fear of getting caught, but you had a feeling that a literal fucking movie being made about your serial killer boyfriend might spark some new inspiration for the two of you…

You were fortunate that the late October weather was mild enough that the premiere of the movie based off of your sleepy little town could be hosted at the outdoor theater right down the road from Hawkins High (the exact place where three out of the seven bodies were found during the original massacre: Jason Carver, Patrick McKinney and Chace Williams hung up like scarecrows on the football posts by their intestines - a gruesome and impressive detail of their deaths). Eddie and you could sit in the back and revel in the glory that made him so anonymously infamous. Kids and teens alike flocked to the ampitheatre donned in their ghostface masks and cloaks like Eddie wore for each one of the massacres. He told you it made the fear so much more satisfying, that watching the life drain from Chrissy Cunningham’s eyes in her own bedroom was much more satisfying thinking that it was just a shape of evil coming for her, not the freak of Hawkins High… The two of you quietly took your seats in the aisle of one of the back rows, glancing up at the projector screen in arousal and anticipation. Eddie was vibrating, the whole town coming to pay homage to him without even knowing it. He could hardly contain himself. You had to place your hand on his thigh to stop his leg from violently shaking. You flashed him a knowing look and rubbed circles into his upper thigh. There were laughs and joyous shrieks coming from the rest of the audience as everyone settled into their seats. You had lucked out, most people choosing to sit closer to the front, leaving your aisle empty, save for a group of teens sitting on the other end of the row. You could gloat in peace while being out of earshot. The stadium lights scattered around the theater seats flickered off and the air grew thick with anticipation. A cacophony of laughing, cheering and screaming echoed through the air as the opening credits began to roll…

You had only been 17 when you were thrust into Eddie’s plot. He had loathed you for a long time, being a cheerleader and in with the ‘it’ crowd, you had originally been on his kill list. When you had joined Hellfire at the beginning of the year (after much persuasion by the freshmen), you went from one of the people he loathed the most, to one of the people he loved the most. You and Eddie began dating in September, a month and a half before the murders took place. You had walked into his trailer unannounced - Eddie had just hung his cloak up in the bathroom and was cleaning the blood off of his hands when you found him.

“Eddie?!” you gasped. You had felt all of the blood drain from your face and your limbs had gone numb. You laugh when you think back to how terrified you were at first - the poor little lamb. Eddie had rushed you with his knife in his hands, someone’s blood still decorating the handle. He slammed you against the trailer wall and held the knife to your throat. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, but there was a sense of peace. You knew that Eddie wasn’t going to actually hurt you, you could sense it.

“So, it was you all along?” you whispered. Eddie was flabbergasted. You didn’t ask out of fear, but out of wonder. You were impressed. There was nothing in your eyes, nothing like what he had just seen out of Patrick McKinney’s deep brown irises. Still, he kept his jaw clenched and he pressed the cold tip of the knife into the skin on your throat. You winced at the contact, but didn’t plead like he thought you would.

“Don’t worry, babe. I’ll keep your secret.” You had gulped. You dared to raise your hand to grab his wrist and pull his armed hand away from your throat. Allowing only a beat, his mouth was on yours. You had only ever had sex once before, and never with Eddie, but there was a primal desire that was missing from the first time you did it. Eddie trailed the knife down your body, using it to tear away at your T-Shirt. You knew you should have been more scared, you should have run, or at least told him to wait until he wasn’t cleaning someone’s fucking blood off of himself before he fucked you… but his magnetism was too strong, you felt like you couldn’t help yourself. It was like that after every kill. It was like that after every time you went to hide evidence. You listened intently to Eddie’s plans, and the more he told you, the more you agreed with him. Vengeance against the people who made his childhood and life a living hell seemed pretty warranted to you.

The movie progressed and you could feel Eddie growing antsy in his seat. With each slash on the big screen, Eddie’s breath hitched. You slid your hand up further to the apex of his thigh and you could feel the tip of his cock standing at attention against the denim.

“You getting yourself all hot and bothered seeing your work, baby?” You whispered into his ear, finishing off your question with a bite to the mop headed man’s earlobe. You heard him shutter against your touch as you rubbed against his growing erection. You grabbed at him through the denim and he moaned quietly. Your bodies moved together while your eyes stayed glued to the meathead and his bimbo girlfriend getting diced on screen.

“You think that’s supposed to be Billy and Heather? Or do you think they’re trying to make connections between Andy and Chrissy? You know how everyone said they were boning behind Carver’s back” Eddie snorted and you couldn’t help but giggle along with him.

“Nah, that’s definitely Heather and Hargrove” you cooed, squeezing hard on Eddie’s cock, making the laughter fizzle out in his throat. He cleared his throat to cover the moans that were desperate to escape his mouth. “This broad has a lifeguard bathing suit hanging out of her closet there, see?” You pointed to the blurred red fabric in the background of the shot, a beautiful brunette with blood all over her face took the main frame. Eddie’s head lolled back as his eyes rolled. He already felt so good, but he wanted to push it. He wanted to feel the danger he did the first night.

While you stroked his angry, hard cock, Eddie shimmied his hand into his back pocket. You didn’t notice until you felt something cold on your tight-clad inner thigh.You look down to see Eddie’s pocket knife pressed into the meat of your thigh, right above the hem of your pleated skirt. Your breath hitched as you huffed a small smile at your boyfriend.

“Better be careful, babe. Wouldn’t want this knife to slip” With the end of his words, Eddie’s knife pressed slightly into your skin to snag your tights. You squeaked out a moan from the surprise sting of the knife nicking your upper thigh. Eddie leaned in impossibly close, his lips rested right by your left ear.

“Ah, ah, ah… don’t want us to get caught, right, dolly? Who knows what kind of trouble we would get in.” His dark chuckle sent shivers down your spine. “Now sit back and behave for me baby. I want to celebrate. You nodded your head feverishly and looked around at the audience at a distance from you. No one was the wiser about either of your arousal, to the sweet nothings you whispered to each other. Fuck, you wished no one else was here so Eddie could take you right then and there. Your pussy quivered at the thought and you were suddenly hyper aware of how badly you needed the metalhead to touch you. You turned your head to the left and nuzzled yourself into Eddie’s neck, your lips finding Eddie’s sweet spot. You suckled at him while continuing your teasing assault on his throbbing cock.

“Eddie… please… touch me” you begged between kisses on his neck. You could hear a shaky breath escape him, and felt his Adam’s apple bob. He was losing control rapidly. He moved the knife away from your body and into his other hand, allowing his fingers to hook themselves into the hole he had made in your tights and tear. Luckily his actions and your moans in response coincided with the scream queen’s tits being splayed across the screen, resulting in a roar of laughter and cheers. Eddie’s spry fingers took no time to pull your soaked panties to the side. His digits entered you with minimal resistance.

“Fuck, baby… you’re so wet for me already.” the boy growled in approval. “You tried to keep quiet, but your mewls couldn’t be contained by your bitten lips. Eddie moved the knife to the side of your ribs and poked you softly with it’s tip. “Now, dolly, we talked about this,” he chided as he added another finger to your pulsating cunt. “You make noise, we get in trouble, and then I gotta kill whoever the fuck snitches and then you get punished.” Eddie’s words went straight to your core and you could feel the heat in your abdomen growing molten hot. You could faintly hear the slick of your own essence being pumped in and out of you by Eddie’s fingers. You tried to undo Eddie’s jeans but he pushed the knife into your skin and you winced, a small bead of blood dripping onto the tip of the knife.

“I’m not done with you yet, dolly. You can’t have my cock yet.” Eddie raised the knife to your mouth, for the first time since the movie started, his eyes met yours. They glinted wildly in the light of the screen. He narrowed his eyes, demanding you to open your mouth and stick out your tongue. You obliged him and he rested the knife on your tongue, leaving you to the shock of tasting your own metallic blood. You cleaned off his knife for him without averting his gaze. Before you knew it, Eddie had removed his fingers from you and grabbed your elbow in a bruising grip.

“Get up. We can’t do this here.” Eddie pulled you down the amphitheater steps until you were back on the open field you had walked in on. Even though you slightly wriggled against his grip on you, Eddie didn’t let up. He pulled you down a corridor that led you to the backside of the projection screen. There was only a few feet for the two of you to stand before your shadows would interrupt the illumination of the slasher being played for you.

“It’s like our own private screening,” Eddie grinned at you. He pulled you into his chest and placed his lips on yours. What started sweet soon returned to the desperate need for each other that you had in the audience. Eddie bit down on your lip hard, eliciting a cry to fall from your lips. Blood spilled from your bottom lip and Eddie was more than excited to clean it up for you.

“That’s it, my girl let me hear you. You taste as good as you sound.” Eddie backed you into the cool cement wall that helped support the screen. His lips traveled across you, covering your neck and chest in a constellation of purple and red bruises. You hitched a leg over his slender waist as your bodies were covered in a sea of red light from another fictional victim being slaughtered for the hundreds of people on the other side of the screen. Eddie’s pants are now hung low on his hips, allowing him to stuff his cock inside you. You grid into his thrust with a groan.

“Look what you did, Eds. Look what you started. This is all for you.” The curly haired boy hastily shoved up your sweater and bra, exposing your tits to the cool autumn air.

“No, dolly. We did this. People won’t fuck with people like us any more. They’ll get what they deserve.” Eddie spurred himself on and thrust harder and harder into you, keeping his gaze up at the screen above him. You cried out as his thick cock hit high into you and Eddie’s knife was back at your throat. With his other strong hand, he grabbed the one leg steadying you on the floor and fucked up into you to keep you on the wall. Your eyes rolled and your tongue lolled out of your mouth as Eddie thrust into you at an even deeper angle.

“Fuck, Eddie. You’re gonna make me cum.” That was all the permission Eddie needed to hear. As screams of terror filled one side of the theater, behind the scenes, your screams of pleasure and pain filled the small backstage area. Eddie dropped your legs and flipped you, your face pressing into the cool concrete, knife now dragging up and down your spine. The sting of the cool metal threw you closer and closer to your climax. Eddie’s bruising grip on your hips gave him more leverage to thrust into you harder and he pressed you into the wall harder and harder.

“Ahh, fuck.” Eddie pocketed the knife and his white knuckle grip that once was on the knife’s handle was now around your neck. Your vision went fuzzy and with a strained squeak, your orgasm flooded over you. Eddie pulled your body up to his while you shook on his cock.

Eddie worked you through wave after wave of pleasure until you could barely stand up - your pussy throbbed around his cock deliciously and with the mix of watching his real life magnum opus being celebrated by this fucked town, his orgasm was hurling at him with no chance at him stopping.

“Get ready for me, babe,” Eddie barked. You whimpered and nodded at him, too fucked out for words. You guided yourself to lean forward on the wall, exposing your dripping pussy and tight asshole to him. You felt a cool ball of spit hit your puckered hole and you moaned, your whole body still so sensitive from your orgasm. You hissed at the unbelievable stretch of Eddie pressing into your hole. You had never felt so full. Maybe it was the movie, or maybe it was the unconditional devotion you had to your boyfriend (and he to you), but one small thrust of Eddie inside your asshole and you could feel the small heat of another orgasm creeping up on you. Eddie paused inside you, looking up to watch the final confrontation of the movie version of Chrissy Cunningham - Hollywood’s final girl, she was drenched in blood, tits see through in her white tank top, and her face tattooed with fear. She looked like that when he had slit her throat and she watched his masked face as she fell to the ground. Power. He held all of it. He held it with the seven teens he murdered, he held it with you, fuck he even Held it with Hawkins - even though he despised the town and almost everyone in it. He had the upper hand. He got his revenge. He got the girl. He got to live the life he wanted when those who tried to break him rotted in the ground.

He shivered as a wave of ecstasy washed over him. He thrust into your tight hole, pulling all the way out and slamming himself back in. You swore you were going to have a bruise on your cheek with how hard your face was being fucked up against the wall. You could feel his impending finish, and you were desperate to feel the waves of pleasure with him. You ran your hand in between your legs and rubbed small, furious circles onto your clit. You were brutal to your own body, licking up any fiery bolts of pain you could, Eddie felt your pleasuring yourself and he felt the first shockwave hit him.

“Fuck, doll I’m going to fill you up.” He could tell you were, again, on the brink of another orgasm “cum with me”.

The only responses that you could muster was a sloppy babbling of pleases as you sent yourself flying over the edge again. Your skin was white hot and your asshole pulsed, milking Eddie of all the cum he had. Your vision went dark and you felt your legs vibrating.

“Fuck!” Eddie yelped as he pulled out of your hole. He was flushed with adoration as you continued working yourself through your orgasm, spilling your clear essence all over the floor. You were totally spent, and Eddie knew better than to try and let you stand up fully. He grabbed you gently by the waist and spun you so you could wrap your arms around his neck. Eddie kissed the top of your forehead, his shit eating grin unable to be wiped from his face.

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Eddie exclaimed. You pressed your forehead to Eddie’s chest and giggled in embarrassment.

“I didn’t know I could either… I was just so turned on… just thinking about how well you’ve done”. Eddie cupped your face in his hands and kissed you gently on the cheek. You helped him do up his jeans and he made sure to put your panties back over your spent holes.

“Let’s get out of here” Your boyfriend offered. “I heard they keep Chrissy’s character alive in the end… so not faithful to the source material.” The grins on your faces widened and with a giggle, the two of you began to trace your steps back to the entrance of the amphitheater, hand in hand. Before you reached the exit of the theater, you pulled Eddie to a stop.

“What’s wrong, dolly?”

“Umm… I had an offer I wanted to make you.” You murmured.

“What is it?” Eddie cooed.

“I was wondering if you wanted to make a sequel with me.” You asked, eyes to the floor. Eddie lifted your chin with his large hands.

“Darling, that is the best idea I’ve heard in a long time.”

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