#which I should probably have realized in advance

[hqbaby]

how did it end? — hinata x reader

ੈ𑁍༘⋆ didn’t you hear? they called it all off. after your relationship falls apart, you find yourself trying to pick up the pieces. in the midst of the wreckage, you still can’t figure out exactly why it all ended.

word count. 1.5k content. angst, breakup fic

You remember when you first moved in. It was a hot summer day and there was a leak in the kitchen. It wasn’t there when you bought the place and Shoyo had spent the whole morning arguing with the realtor because of it. You remember seeing him get all frustrated and having to tell him to calm down, that it would be fine.

“I just wanted it to be perfect,” he told you when he got off the phone. The two of you were sitting on the floor of your bare living room, sucking on popsicles and wiping the sweat from your foreheads.

His words warmed your heart, which might have seemed counterproductive in the heat, but you didn’t care. All you could do was smile at him and take his hand and say, “Look around. It’s already perfect.”

He lit up at your words, suddenly all giddy as looked around the place. Your place. For both of you.

He kissed you then and you laughed, jokingly shoving him away, reminding him of the heat, but he didn’t care. You didn’t either.

Things were easier then. Lighter, happier. Better.

You look around the living room now, bare once more, stripped of all signs of life that had once filled its walls, and you wonder if things will ever be that good again. And you realize that they probably won’t.

“You okay?” Sakusa asks you. He’s carrying a box of your things, things that had once had a place in this home and don’t anymore. “Are you missing anything?”

You shake your head. “I’m fine,” you tell him, picking up a box at your feet. “We should go.”

All of your things are split between the trunk of your car and Sakusa’s. After he heard about what happened, he had offered to help you move your things to your new place. At that point, you hadn’t even considered leaving this house, your home. You never thought you’d have to look for a new place again.

“Is there anything else?” Sakusa asks as he closes the trunk of his car.

You look at the boxes of your things, the empty house behind you, the winding road ahead with an unfamiliar destination. You can’t help the tears that fall from your eyes. “I—I can’t,” you say, turning back to the house. “I can’t leave. It’s not over yet.”

Your friend has a pained expression on his face. He says your name, quietly, sadly. “What do you want to do?”

“Can I call him?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

But you’re already fumbling through your pockets, pulling your phone out. “I’m gonna call him.”

You tap on his number, still at the top of your contacts list. You worry your lip as you listen to the phone ring once. Twice. Thrice.

He declines.

You ring him again.

Decline.

Again.

Decline.

“Please stop,” Sakusa says, prying the phone from your hands. “He won’t answer. I’m sorry.”

You look back at the house. Did it always look so empty? So lifeless? So miserable?

“I just need a minute,” you tell him, rubbing your tears away with the back of your hand. “Just a minute,” you say, walking towards the house. To soothe it? To stop its pain? You don’t know. “I’ll be back.”

You push through the doors and suddenly you’re back at the beginning.

Shoyo stands by the staircase with a fresh bouquet, grinning that boyish grin of his. “Happy anniversary,” he says.

You frown. “It’s not our anniversary.”

“I know,” he tells you, still grinning. “But it will be in three months. Thought I’d get you something in advance.”

You launch yourself into his arms and he peppers your face with kisses as you giggle and clutch the bouquet to your chest. “I love it,” you tell him, pulling away to look him square in the eye. “Thank you.”

You’re back in the present, standing at the staircase, arms empty, the warmth of his embrace gone. How long had it been since the two of you were that happy? That careless with your joy?

A month ago, you were both at the staircase too. You were standing at the top, him at the bottom. The distance hurt you more than it should have.

“I can’t deal with this anymore,” you told him. You weren’t crying, you were just staring at him, all tired and drained. “You know that, right? You know I can’t.”

You felt for the ring on your finger. It had been there for two years already, a promise that was yet to be fulfilled. A promise that you had been waiting on for so long, one that never came and would never come.

He gripped the rails and shook his head. “I don’t know what you want from me."

He had a different look on his face, one that you wouldn’t have recognized two years ago but had become increasingly familiar with in the last few weeks. You were both tired, and that was never going to end well no matter what you did.

“Put me first,” you told him. Asking. Begging. Pleading. “Just put me first for once.”

You grip the railing now and you wonder why it didn’t end there. Because it didn’t. Somehow, you found it in yourselves to keep going, keep breathing life into the corpse that was the two of you for two more weeks.

You should’ve let it end there. Maybe it would’ve made more sense.

You wander to the kitchen, the place where you once considered that you might’ve been the happiest you’d ever be.

It was a Sunday night, Shoyo had spent his day off with you, going to your favorite spots around the city, having dinner at the place you two loved, lying on the couch and watching all the shows you’d missed. You found yourselves washing the bowls you’d used for ice cream, chatting about your day, the things you could do next week.

You thought that you were already happy then, that things couldn’t get much better, but Shoyo wasn’t having any of that.

As you placed the last bowl on the drying rack, you found your boyfriend on his knees. There was a ring in his hands. No box, just a ring. He later told you that he’d kept it in his pajama pocket because he was so scared of losing it and you’d laughed at him and told him you understood.

He was nervous, the words getting all jumbled in his mouth until all he could say was, “Do you—do you maybe wanna marry me?”

You nodded your head and leaned down to kiss him. He slid the ring onto your finger and you held him tight. You never wanted to let him go.

You twist the ring on your finger now. He told you to keep it, but you’d been contemplating giving it back. Maybe Sakusa could pass it along. Or Atsumu. Any one of your friends would do. You just know you can’t give it to him directly. He won’t have that.

You tap the kitchen table, still there, part of what you decided to sell with the house because neither of you wanted to keep it. You both know why, but you never said it out loud.

It was where things ended, more or less.

You had sat down for dinner, the week building up to that moment had been tense, but not anything special. You were bracing yourself for another fight, another cool down, another restless night of sleep before things went back to normal. You don’t know if you should’ve realized it was coming. You guess you never will.

“We need to talk,” he said and you listened.

You both poured out all the things that bothered you, the things you wanted to fix, the things that were clearly going wrong. It was a civil conversation, diplomatic and understanding. You talked and talked, trying to piece together the things neither of you could understand on your own. You thought it would work, you thought it was going well.

But it went on for too long. You circled around the same concerns again and again. You put things together only to watch them fall apart. It felt like building a sandcastle by the sea only for the whole thing to be washed away by the waves in seconds.

In the end, you realized that you were going nowhere. This was going nowhere.

So you stopped trying to fix it. You both did. There was no point trying to bring something back when it had clearly been gone for a while already.

You look at the table now. You look at the marks you left on it, where you had both engraved your initials. Shoyo had been so happy when you agreed to doing it.

“We’ll be here forever,” he told you as he pressed the cutter to the wood. His head was bent, focusing and carefully carving each stroke. 

You were sitting beside him, head on his shoulder. You smiled. “We’ll be here forever.”

notes. i’ve been in a weird place recently, picking at old wounds and all, so my writing’s been all over the place. i’m trying not to touch any of my series right now (mainly because i’m scared i’ll mess with the plots too much to backtrack), so here’s a little fic for now <3

#hqbaby.fic #hqbaby #haikyuu #hinata shoyo #hinata #hinata shoyo x reader #hinata x reader #haikyuu x reader #hinata shoyo angst #hinata angst #haikyuu angst

[dr-friendship]

Hello world! :D

#new to tumblr #new artist #new to posting art online in general lol #I have no clue what i'm doing #but I do have a digital cake #which is cool #also my art style is a bit inconsistent sorry about that in advance-- #hope you guys like derpy comics haha #short comic #my art #I just realized I should probably tag that I drew this aaa-- #Once again I have no clue what I'm doing

[steddiealltheway]

Au where HoH Steve keeps getting pestered by his roommate and best friend Robin to learn sign language in case his hearing gets worse. Plus, when he gets his migraines it might be easier to communicate.

He goes to the bookstore and finds a sign language book and signs to himself trying to pick up the basics. And, to his surprise, he takes to it pretty quickly and easily learns at least the alphabet.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Flash over to Eddie who has been coming to this bookstore because they surprisingly have D&D guides and a huge fantasy section - plus, Murray, the owner, sometimes lends him books instead of making him buy them.

But when he glances around and takes in the familiar surroundings and spots the very unfamiliar new guy in his favorite chair in the corner, he instantly freezes. Because this guy is his absolute dream guy.

Eddie thinks about how he made a New Years resolution that he wasn’t going to run away from things anymore. This time, he’ll actually go after what he wants. He walks towards the man, but stops in his tracks as he watches the man sign to himself.

Eddie takes a moment then decides that this won’t deter him. Instead of going to the fantasy section, Eddie goes over to the language section and grabs the first sign language book he finds. He goes to the register and gestures to the corner while asking Murray, “How long has he been here?”

Murray glances and shrugs. “Only a few days, but it looks like he’s going to keep coming back. Why?”

Eddie looks down and tries to figure out what to say.

“Ooooh. I see,” Murray says with a big smile and motions to the book.

Eddie feels himself flush red as he replies, “I’m thinking of asking him out in sign language. Rather than just, writing it down, you know.”

Murray stares at him for a moment but then scans the book and hands it to him. As Eddie takes it, Murray says, “You should probably know that he…” He trails off and gets a big smile on his face that sets off the warning signs in Eddie’s head. “He’s going to love that,” Murray finishes. “Have a good day!”

Eddie looks at Murray for a second before finally deciding that he’s just a strange man, and everything he says sounds strangely cryptic. So he shrugs it off and hurries home to start learning.

-:-:-:-:-:-

A few days later, and Steve finds himself sitting in the same bookstore with another sign language guide after Robin bet him that he wouldn’t keep up with learning the language. And although he may have started to give up a bit, he went right back into it to prove Robin wrong. Plus, there was twenty bucks on the line.

He’s caught up in the sign for “bitch” when he’s tapped on the shoulder. He jumps back and looks up at a guy with longer dark curly hair and big brown eyes. In his speechlessness, he nearly doesn’t notice the man rubbing his chest with his fist.

But Steve notices the circular motion, and then realizes that it’s definitely a sign for something. Oh! Sorry

Steve smiles widely at the man who smiles back at him. He points at him and signs your name? Steve can feel himself turn red as the deaf man takes pity on him and very slowly spells out E-B-B-I-E.

He points back at Steve who slowly spells out his name as well.

The other man nods with a smile and signs his name back quickly as if repeating it. Steve nods enthusiastically although he struggles with the difference between S and A, but he gets distracted and can’t help but sign beautiful as he stares up at Ebbie.

Ebbie scoffs. You are beautiful

No, you. Steve flirts easily. Maybe there will be a new motivation to learn sign language…

Ebbie pulls his hair in front of his now rosy cheeks, and takes a deep breath before quickly signing something which Steve gets none of. He really should’ve taken this sign language thing more seriously. He shakes his head at the man and hopes he doesn’t give up too quickly.

Ebbie looks a bit discouraged but slowly signs again, but Steve only captures you and want. Clearly this man is a bit too advanced for Steve.

Steve motions for a pen by just scribbling in the air since he hasn’t learned the sign for it yet, while praying that Ebbie doesn’t think he’s stupid. But the other man quickly nods and pulls a pen and small notebook out of his pocket as if he’s prepared for this moment. Which makes sense because he probably has to do this often.

Ebbie scribbles something fast and hesitates before showing it to Steve.

Do you want to go on a date?

Steve stares at the note and takes a minute to process while he tries to figure out what signs meant what. Then, he finally takes in what the question says, and makes eye contact with a very stressed looking Ebbie.

Yes, Steve replies as quickly as he can remember what the sign for it is.

Ebbie looks overjoyed for a moment, and then calmly signs F-R-I-D-A-Y. Then, he holds up his hands to show eight fingers and points down at the ground which Steve takes to mean here.

Yes, Steve replies dumbly not knowing how else to explain his gratitude.

Ebbie quickly gives him a thumbs up and waves at him goodbye. Steve waves back as Ebbie turns around and walks out of the store.

Steve can’t help but notice Murray hunched over at the register seeming to be crying from laughter. He wishes he was reading whatever book he has.

-:-:-:-:-:-

For the next three days, Eddie stops by the bookstore and has brief conversations with Ateve who takes pity on him and signs slowly for him. He even shows him a sign language book after noticing how poorly he’s signing.

Eddie’s just surprised that he agreed to the date after he signed the question so atrociously that Ateve couldn’t even vaguely understand it.

But he notices that he’s beginning to get slightly better at signing, but him and Ateve usually stick to spelling things out letter by letter until they have to ultimately go to the notebook.

But Eddie really likes Ateve. Sure, he has a weird name, but he has a really great personality that shows through even through his signing. Plus, his laughter is music to Eddie’s ears. He wonders what his voice would be like if he attempted to speak.

But that’s a horrible thing to think. Right? Eddie really doesn’t know the etiquette or what’s offensive in the deaf community. He needs to do more research. This research ends up taking him down a path of learning every curse he can in sign language… he feels oddly productive.

But then the day of the date comes, and Eddie really wishes he would’ve spent more time on learning things he could actually use. He ends up sticking to beautiful when he first sees Ateve.

Ateve smiles brightly and signs something that Eddie doesn’t recognize, but he signs thank you hoping for the best. It seems like the right response.

The walk over from the bookstore to Enzo’s is quiet except when they pass by Murray who is cackling by the register. For some reason, the past three days he’s had a laughing fit, but Eddie thinks maybe it’s just something he got from Alexei.

Eddie nearly whispers a pep talk under his breath as the approach the doors, but he doesn’t want Ateve to look over and see. Instead, he just holds up his fingers for two when they get inside and are quickly seated.

Eddie takes a moment to look at the menu before looking up at Ateve who shyly signs hi.

Eddie signs it back while biting back a huge smile before he sees a waiter approach from behind him. He’s been dreading this moment.

“Hello, gentlemen. What can-”

“He’s deaf,” Eddie says at the same time as someone else next to him. He turns and looks at Ateve who stares at Eddie in shock then he realizes…

“Holy shit,” Eddie says.

“Holy shit is right,” Ateve replies.

The waiter clears his throat, “I’ll be back in a moment.” He quickly walks away looking extremely confused but relieved to have been removed from the situation.

“I thought you were deaf.”

“I thought you were deaf.”

Ateve laughs, “Well, I’m Steve, and I’m a bit hard of hearing and sometimes get really intense migraines, so my roommate has been encouraging me to learn sign language.”

“Shit,” Eddie says and puts his head in his hands, “I thought your name was Ateve.” He laughs along with Steve and says, “I’m Eddie, and I started to learned sign language a few days ago after I saw you signing to yourself. But thank you for taking pity on me since you’re clearly advanced.”

“I stared learning days ago, and I thought you were fluent and taking pity on me. Plus, I thought your name was Ebbie.”

Eddie stares at Steve for a moment before laughing loud enough that the restaurant goes quiet as everyone turns to look at the commotion. Steve joins in after looking around.

The restaurant slowly resumes to the normal volume level as Eddie and Steve’s laughter dies down. Steve smiles and says, “If you want, we can still continue learning sign language. Together. If that’s something you’d be interested in…”

Eddie smiled back at him and replies, “Yeah, I’d really really like that.”

As the date goes on, they realize they have a natural connection and easily launch into multiple conversations, but then Eddie stops abruptly and asks, “Wait, did Murray know that you weren’t deaf?”

“Yes,” Steve answers confused but then a look of realization crosses over his face.

Bastard. Eddie signs.

Bitch. Steve signs back with a laugh.

Eddie finds that he can’t be too mad at Murray though because Steve deaf or not is absolutely perfect.

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet #meddling Murray #hoh steve harrington #idiots to lovers #🌹🌹

[hellsslibrary]

I want to ask for Riddle and Epel's virginity fanfiction. Like headcanons or plain text is up to you, as well as all kinks and fetishes! Have a good day!

✧･ﾟ:* Riddle and Epel lose their virginity to a male!reader *:･ﾟ✧

DNI: minors.

!!Warnings: loss of virginity (obviously), toxic masculinity in the Epel part, anal sex, soft experience, fingering, a little teasing, Rook(sorry).

Riddle.

This must be planned fully in advance BEFORE this process. It should NOT and CANNOT be spontaneous. Everything must be planned from cover to cover.

He is too worried about this, so he will definitely discuss everything with you for several days in advance. Yours and his fetishes, kinks, boundaries, your yes and no, and so on.

And after that, he will think over everything to the smallest detail together with you, and only then will he agree to this.

He will completely and absolutely give you control (especially if you are not a virgin). Like, in any case, you have more experience, at least from reading similar texts, dear reader.

And he'll probably do whatever you want, as long as it's not too kinky for your shared first sex.

"[Y-your name], are you sure everything's going well? It's... It's a very strange feeling," Riddle whimpers, lightly squeezing the sheets underneath him.

You lift your gaze up to him while your two fingers are inside him, rubbing gently against his prostate. You rub soothingly on his thigh, lightly releasing the pressure on his prostate.

"You mean you don't like it? I can stop, Riddy," you whisper, kissing his forehead gently.

Riddle's cheeks turn crimson and he shakes his head, smiling tremblingly.

"I like it, it's just... Unusual, you know?" he moans, covering his mouth with his hand and tugging at his hips, feeling you tremblingly press on his prostate.

"I don't really understand, but of course... I guess you're ready anyway," you hum, sticking your fingers out, causing Riddle to whine in frustration.

When he finally feels your cock in him, it's definitely a weird feeling. Given his upbringing, I guess that's the last thing he could imagine in his sex life, especially if he's doing it with a guy.

But he still loves it! Your penis stretches his insides so nicely, adjusting them to fit him. It's so cute, hehe.

And when he finally gets used to this strange feeling inside him, he is definitely just in ecstasy! It's such a strangely powerful feeling, he's never felt it during the inevitable puberty jerk off sessions.

"[Y-your name]..! So damn good! D-don't stop, please!" - he muffled screams into the pillow, squeezing it in his grip.

Your hands grip his trembling thighs tightly as you keep thrusting into his hole. He shrinks so cutely around you with every thrust, like he's getting even tighter than before, which sounds surreal.

"I'm not going to, Riddy~. Don't worry, you'll come today like you've never come before," you whisper, chuckling as you continue your gentle but quick thrusts inside Riddle.

He buries his face into his pillow, doing his best to muffle his moans, whimpers and almost screams. His nails dig into the pillowcase as his legs unconsciously wrap around your waist.

He furrows his brows, feeling a slightly familiar pleasure in his stomach, although this time it's much more intense and bigger. Riddle immediately realizes that you were right.

But who turns down the chance to experience the best orgasm of their lives with their partner? Just an idiot, I guess.

Epel.

He, to put it mildly, is experiencing enormous difficulties in this. His concepts in his head just start a war, like "Damn, I love him and I want to have sex with him!", "No, it's not true! It's feminine to love men, and even more so to be a bottom!" Or something like that.

But in the end, he agrees to it, referring in his toxicly masculine head that he is doing this for love and will endure it courageously (And also probably due to conversations between Vil and Rook, who somehow found out that you were going to do sex...Though this shouldn't come as a surprise considering them, especially Rook).

But he obviously doesn't, lol.

"Oh, wait, wait! Fuck!" he whimpers, frowning and squeezing your shoulders as you slowly finger him.

"What's wrong, Epel? Are you hurt?" You stroke his cheek, causing him to unconsciously lean into your hand.

He shakes his head, making a sound like a growl and squeezes his teeth and lips, trying to shut up, digging even harder into your shoulders with his fingers.

Although he still gets used to this feeling sooner or later and even begins to enjoy the way your fingers move in him and press on the right places, he still feels strange about it.

He, like Riddle, had no idea that he would have anal sex, especially with a man. True, in his case, his concepts of the "Right Man" and all that are to blame.

"Fuck! Too much, [Your Name], so much!" he whimpers, still grabbing your shoulders and wrapping his legs around your waist.

You keep pushing his small frame onto your cock, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure with a loud moan, feeling your cock enter at just the right angle.

You lick your lips, squeezing one of Epel's nipples, which causes him to meet your cock on the way up, causing him to make the loudest moan you've ever heard.

"Wow... I never thought that you would moan like that, but I can't say that I don't like it," you whisper, taking his lips in a kiss, trying to drown out his moans, because you began to feel some insistence look at your back...

Epel furrows his brows, grabbing your hair in his hands and pulling you closer to him, kissing you back, slightly awkward though.

His thoughts turn to mush in his head as he feels you thrust into his insides, making his body bounce in your lap.

It was probably one of the nicest things he's ever experienced... And he doesn't regret it one bit.

#dom male reader #seme male reader #top male reader #a!writes. #sub character #sub twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x male reader #twisted wonderland smut #riddle x male reader #sub riddle #riddle x reader #epel x male reader #epel x reader #sub epel #riddle smut #epel smut #twisted wonderland x reader

[zzleeper]

Good

Jason Todd x Nurse!Reader

MAJOR hurt/comfort

authors note: tbh i do not put as much effort as i should when i write these fics so pls forgive any errors. ty to the internet for providing me with tutorials on how to heal burns :)

ALSO this happens after the end of under the red hood. if you dk what happens basically the building everyone is in explodes and jason is probably incredibly emotionally vulnerable

CW: wounds and burns

words: 2227 . playlist/vibes

.

There’s the squeak of your window opening, and despite the fact you know it’s Red Hood, you pick up the baseball bat you keep beside your nightstand. 

You had met Red Hood at a side job of yours. As a nurse in Gotham with dogshit pay, sometimes you’ve got to have some more questionable sources of income. You were stitching up some criminal who’d been beaten to half a pulp by Batman in the back of some sketchy club/drug dealing front, and he had caught your eye. Later, you realized he was probably there to fuck with the guys in the area once the men you were patching up started muttering about “The Red Hood” like if they spoke too loud he was going to hear them.

He’d played into your advances, flirting back with as much enthusiasm as you had arrived with. It was flattering having such a fine-ass man show interest in you. It didn’t matter how genuine it was since he had proven how good a lay he could be a week after that when you two had found each other again at another base of operations for another gang.

Every other time he always found you. He probably knew where you lived before you brought him back to your apartment. And he never took the mask off. It was a little weird, how attached to it he was, but it’s Gotham, and you’re fucking with a criminal. You’re lucky that, as far as you can tell, he’s not an escapee from Arkham. He didn’t touch the mask, and you didn’t say anything. Maybe he was super disfigured or something. You didn’t care; he looked good and fucked good, so nothing could’ve been that bad.

Red Hood always left before you’d even fallen asleep. The post-orgasm haze was enjoyable until he untangled himself from you and left without saying goodbye. It was always a silent affair every time he left. He was so committed to leaving that he refused to stay the night during a thunderstorm, deciding to brave thunder and rain instead of sleeping in the same bed with you

It didn’t hurt, but it was a little disappointing. You had never defined your relationship with Red Hood, but you knew he wasn’t interested in anything but sex. You were, though. The dull ache in your chest every time he left was nothing unexpected; catching feelings, or at least thinking you are, is a natural progression of fucking someone once every week or two. It’s a pattern you’ve found forming every time you’ve tried to have a no-strings-attached sort of relationship, even if you haven’t even seen his face before.

Creeping out of your room with socked feet, you shuffle toward your window and flick the light on.

Your bat clatters to the ground, and you can see Red Hood flinch slightly.

“Oh my god, what the fuck happened?” You gasp in shock at the state of the man who’s just broken into your apartment. Red Hood is beaten and bloody and clutching his side. You can see blood oozing out from the gaps between his fingers, but that might just be from how burned his hand is. His mask is just gone. But he’s still wearing a domino mask over his eyes. Bruises bloom everywhere on his face; his eyebrow is sluggishly bleeding into his eye, which is puffing up under the mask. He’s leaning against the wall beside your window, looking more like he collapsed. 

He groans quietly in response as you rush over to him, collapsing on your knees next to him, “Got in an–” He coughs quietly, that’s not good, “An explosion.”

You want to suggest a hospital, but you know that he would immediately refuse and–if he could walk–probably just leave. Talking to Red Hood in vulnerable moments was like coaxing a feral cat.

“Okay,” You mumble, “Okay,” You know how to do this. Maybe with more people and more hospital equipment and not in your apartment, but you know how to do this.

“Alright,” You shuffle next to him and wrap an arm around his torso, maneuvering his arm to rest on your shoulders, “I’m going to lift you on one, okay?”

Red Hood nods, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Hey,” You snap, nudging him with your shoulder, “Stay awake–and deep breaths, alright?” Shuffling into a crouching position, you adjust him slightly, “Three, two, and one,” You both grunt in unison as you lift him up and off the floor, “Up we go, come on.”

Stumbling to the bathroom, you nudge the door open with your hip and carefully sit Red Hood on the toilet with you crouching between his legs. He droops in a way you’ve never seen before. Red Hood has always been so confident, holding himself high, but right now, he looks bone-tired, something sleep can’t fix. 

He feels raw and broken open, something thick with sadness and tragedy oozing out of him, and that’s not just the blood. You cup his cheek to make him look you in the eyes, “Tell me what hurts, honey,” You say, the endearment slipping out as if you’re talking to a patient. Or someone you love.

Red Hood pushes his face into your hand, making your heart squeeze in your chest, “I think I broke a few ribs, definitely a concussion too,” He lifts his hand, it’s bloody and burned, blisters forming in spots that make you cringe, “And my hand is burned like crazy,” He rasps, “Shot my gun with some shit blocking the barrel.”

“Okay, can you take off your shirt, or do you need help?” You ask, standing up to start running the water and grabbing two cloths made from old t-shirts from the hamper next to your tub. Red Hood shakes his head and pulls off his shirt in your peripherals. Glancing over, his chest looks just as bad as you thought it would, with bruises scattered everywhere. It makes your stomach drop just a little more. At least there aren’t any deep abrasions anywhere. 

Once the water warms up enough, you wet the cloths and offer one to Red Hood, resting the other one down on the sink countertop, “Wrap that around your hand and keep it there. I’m going to go get some ice for your ribs,” You say quietly, leaving the bathroom to walk over to the kitchen. 

Why was Red Hood even here? He’s the most secretive person you know, and doesn’t he have an entire gang to patch him up? He must have a lieutenant or something somewhere. You grab the towel you keep in your kitchen and stuff it with ice, heading back to the bathroom where Red Hood awaits you. Honestly, fucking one of the most dangerous men in Gotham and a notorious crime lord was not your brightest idea, but patching him up after he got into a fucking explosion? What the fuck.

This isn’t what you two do, especially with Hood being so vulnerable right now. He’s breaking the boundaries he had firmly set completely on his own.

“Hey,” You say, Red Hood’s leaning back against the toilet, his eyes closed, “Wake up, I’ve got your ice.” Thankfully, he opens his eyes and takes the makeshift icepack with his good hand, pressing it against his ribs with a slight grimace. You pull the t-shirt-cloth off the counter and stand in between his legs to clean his face.

Nudging his chin with your hand to make him look up at you, you peel off the domino mask with some hesitation, but Red Hood just closes his eyes. He rests his head in your hand when you carefully grip his chin to nudge his face in the direction you want. Starting to clean the cut on his eyebrow, you think about how familiar he looks. His eyes look like those you’ve seen before, but you have no idea where.

“What happened?” You ask, wiping the blood off his face as carefully as you can. You know he won’t answer honestly, the few times you two had talked about anything close to emotions he had fled or changed the subject as soon as possible.

“I told you,” Red Hood responds like the avoidant fuck he is, “Explosion.”

You tut, whacking him lightly with your t-shirt-towel, and he huffs good-naturedly, “You know what I fucking meant, dickhead.” You scold, but he just shakes his head minutely in response, a furrow forming between his brows. 

You swipe your thumb over it, soft in a way you two have never been, “You don’t have to tell me, Red. If this is the best way to help, then I’ll fix you up and send you on your way.” 

He takes a shaky breath, and his eyebrows scrunch together more. You’re scared he’s going to stand up and leave your apartment, but he pushes through your hands and presses his forehead into your stomach. He falls apart against you. You can’t tell if he’s crying, but it’s something close.

“Oh, sweetheart,” You mutter, curling a hand into his hair. 

You both stay like that until he calms down, the sobs wracking his body slowing to a stop. Cupping his face in your hands, you push until he looks up at you. 

You don’t have to push very hard. Wiping away the tear tracks with your thumbs, you smile sadly down at him. There’s a small wet spot on your shirt.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” You crouch down and start wiping the dirt and blood off his chest, pushing him until he leans against the back of the toilet. Repeating this on his back as well, you try to soothe as best you can with a hand stroking up and down his side with the least bruises.

Once you’re done you pull him around to face you, “I’m going to wash your hair, bandage your hand, and then you’re sleeping for a very long time.”

Red Hood visibly tenses at that, and you level him with an unimpressed stare, “Stay,” You say quietly, resting your hands on his biceps and avoiding his gaze, “I want to watch you if you have a concussion, and I can’t do that when you’re having a seizure in an alleyway because it’s given you brain damage.”

He deflates, but still rolls his eyes, “It’s not that bad,” He argues, “I’ve been through worse.” How bad, he doesn’t say, but from the amount of scars on his chest and back, you can pretty much tell.

You patronizingly pat his cheek, “That sucks for you,” You tease, your hand sliding down to wrap your fingers around his wrist, avoiding the burns on his hands, and gently tug him towards the shower. He follows without protest, and you both sit against the tub as you wait for the water to warm up. It’s calming, sitting beside Red Hood, your sides pressed together.

Once the water is at a heat you deem acceptable; you pull down the showerhead and maneuver Red Hood to kneel over the tub, still icing his ribs, and start washing his ashy hair with generous amounts of shampoo and conditioner. You can feel his breathing slow next to you as you massage his head with your hands, suds falling into the tub under him.

You wring out his hair with a towel and push him back up into a sitting position. Kneeling on the ground, you lean over to pull open the cabinet under your sink and carefully take the first aid kit from its precarious balance on top of your medicine hoard.

Wrapping his burn is easier than you thought, Red Hood pliant and willing under your hands. You do a once over of him and judge him fit to sleep. You lead him out of the bathroom with a hand on the small of his back.

“Sorry, I don’t have any underwear for you,” You whisper, scared to break the quiet vulnerability you two are sharing.

He smiles at you for the first time since he arrived, which really means it’s the first time ever. It’s soft around the corners with exhaustion, and he looks at you for a little while before responding, “It’s okay, I didn’t expect you to,” He whispers back, just as hushed as you.

You chuckle at his late reply, “Your concussion must be pretty bad if it takes you that long to process words,” You goad, slipping under the covers. Red Hood goes to follow after setting his icepack down on the nightstand, but you hold out a hand to stop him, “Pants. Off. I’m not getting your grime and soot all over my clean sheets.”

He smiles brighter, “Well, you could’ve asked nicer,” He huffs, unbuckling his utility belt and letting it fall to the floor. He undoes his real belt and kicks off his cargo pants, nestling down into the sheets with a groan that’s half pain and half satisfaction.

You’re lying on your stomach, your face smushed against the pillow facing Red Hood, who’s lying on his back, as he fucking should, staring up at the ceiling, “Good?” You mumble, more at the pillow than the man beside you, and he laughs slightly, turning his head to look at you.

“Yeah,” He whispers like a secret in the dark of your bedroom, “It's good.”

#jason todd #jason todd x female reader #jason todd x reader #hurt/comfort #i made myself sad #nvm that was the mitski

[steviebears]

First Time

SUMMARY: You and Eddie still haven't had sex, and it's starting to weigh on you. So you finally tell him you want to go all the way.

GENRE: smut (mdni!!!)

WARNINGS: f!reader, established relationship, playfulness, pussy eating, fingering, protected sex, vanilla

a/n: This is my first fic on this blog! Eddie is so hot god help me, I blushed madly while writing this. Enjoy~

Eddie had thought about this a lot. Every time you bent over his eyes were glued to your ass. Whenever you leaned over the D&D table his gaze went straight down your shirt. he tried not to be obvious about the effect you had on him, but the stars in his eyes told a different story. He would cough awkwardly and look away each time you caught him (which was more often than he'd like to admit) and a knowing smile would creep up to your face.

Even when you two were cuddling innocently, all he could think of at times was how soft and warm your skin was. He daydreamed about how soft your boobs probably were. He'd only ever touched them once, on accident, sort of. He was teasing you about your girly blouse and without thinking had just grabbed a handful of you. He played it off well actually, opting for teasing you for getting so flustered over it. You didn't miss the shade of red his cheeks were though.

Eddie knew you had bad past experiences with sex. He was very understanding of that fact and never advanced on you to do anything, but that was starting to bother you. It made you sad how he would have to leave to the bathroom after each one of your heated makeouts to take care of himself, no matter how understanding he was.

What bothered you more was the wetness in your panties from imagining him jerking off there. If you were lucky, you could hear a groan from the other side of that stupid door.

His pillowy lips were moving swiftly against yours as you try to keep up. The kiss was getting progressively more sloppy with each swipe of his tongue on yours. taking initiative, you opt to change position and shift into his lap. He smiles into the kiss when you push on the back of his head to get him closer to you.

The longer this kiss went on, the harder he got. It didn't take much to get him riled up. Especially not when you're wearing his shirt and looking as pretty as ever on top of him like this. he breaks away to take another look.

Your lips were reddening and slightly swollen from all the friction and your chest heaved up and down with each deep breath you took. He licks his lips at the sight of your nipples through his shirt.

"Well as much as I'm enjoying this, princess, I should probably excuse myself." No, no. Not again. Not when you're so hot and bothered from feeling his hard length underneath your thigh. He starts to lift you off of him with ease, but you stop him.

"Eddie." He looks up at you, his grip on your waist loosening. you gulp.

"Eddie, I don't want you to leave. Please don't." You found it difficult to get out what you really wanted to say; 'fuck me!'. He tilts his head, his smile softening. You sigh and look away for a second before returning your gaze to him. He raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to go on. He can tell you're holding something back.

"What is it, doll?" A part of you thinks he already knows based on the cadence in his voice but you can't take this anymore. so you squeeze your eyes shut and blurt it out.

"Please fuck me!" Your face turns crimson as you realize what you'd just said and your eyes shoot open to gage his reaction. He has the widest tight lipped smile you'd ever seen before he starts giggling. you slump over and hit his shoulder, whining at him for laughing at you.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He apologizes through his grin.

"If it's any consolation, I would love to. I was just surprised." he smiles sweetly at you trying to ease your embarrassment. he still lifts you off of him but lays you down and hovers over you.

"And since you asked so nicely..." He smirks before leaning down to kiss you again, softer this time. He couldn't really keep himself from breaking the kiss every so often when he was smiling so hard. His hands stroked your sides, his touch lingering around your waist where the hem of your jeans laid. His fingers crawled their way to the button and undid it, but not without asking you for reassurance. He finally pried your jeans from you, tossing them aside his bed before laying his eyes on you innocent and cute white panties adorned with a wet patch in the center. You were too perfect.

"My, my Y/n. If I had known you were this worked up about it I would have done this a lot sooner." He snickers to himself, driving you nuts. Could he just touch you already?

You whine and stick up your hips, physically begging him to rid you of your underwear. He chuckles and his deep brown eyes meet yours. He gives you a genuine and excited smile that you return without hesitation. He really was so appreciative of you trusting him like this. He hooks his finger on your underwear and pulls them down while kissing gently down your neck.

his two fingers softly touch your cunt, slowly lapping up your wetness before he settles himself between your thighs. The sight of him there looking up at you was enough to coax a moan from your throat.

Eddie trails kisses from your inner thigh to you clit, you flinching when his lips press down on it. He licks a fat stripe up you and leans back for a second, locking eyes with you.

"You taste like a fucking candy." He says in a low voice. You were sure you didn't but you took the compliment with a blush. He leaves a few kitten licks to your clit and then dips his tongue inside you. The action drew a moan from you and he groaned at the feeling of you clenching around his tongue. The vibrations had your heart beating even faster.

He latched his lips around your clit, gently sucking as his teeth grazed you ever so softly. This goes on for a little while, and the familiar feeling of a knot tightening in your stomach began.

He leans away for a bit of air and he catches the way you are repeatedly clenching around nothing. He sticks his middle finger in his mouth, pulling off the ring and spitting it to the side. The sight was erotic.

He dives back in, sucking on your clit while licking when he slowly pushes his wet finger into your hole, the stretch feeling indescribably good to you. He experimentally curls his finger and you nearly scream when he hits that spot, hands diving to his hair. You can feel his simper and he continues his ministrations. He looks up to see the labored rise and fall of your tummy.

"Shit, shit." You pant as the knot tightens more and more, threatening to snap. Eddie adds his ring finger and that is enough to push you over the edge, your legs snapping around his head while a loud moan escapes you. Your entire body trembles, and he doesn't mind the pressure to the sides of his head. He could die happy between your thighs.

Once you'd ridden out your high and your legs relaxed, he kissed your heat one last time before pulling his fingers out. You whine, hating the empty feeling. At least you knew it wouldn't last long.

Your eyes widen at the sight of Eddie's cute face covered in your wetness, a pleased smile on his face. He reaches your face and kisses you, the faint taste of yourself present in his mouth.

"That was... the hottest thing ever." He mumbles as you gently wipe his face. In response, you grind up to his bulge, the denim providing a deliciously rough texture to your sensitive core. He groans into your ear and the sound makes your whole body feel hot.

"Are you sure, sweetheart? We can stop, no questions asked." He asks for your consent again and worries you may feel uncomfortable.

"Of course I'm sure. I love you." He lights up like a christmas tree and nods.

"I love you too. More than anything." he mumbles the last of his sentence into your neck as he begins to grind down his hips against yours. You get impatient and reach for his belt buckle, your giddy hands fumbling with it until you can get to unbutton his jeans and pull both them and his underwear off. He was bigger than you thought, and your breath turns nervous. Eddie can hear it. So, he caresses your face and you can see the strong emotion in his deep eyes.

"I'm serious. No questions asked." He repeats.

"And I'm serious. I want you." You reassure and kiss him for the thousandth time that night.

"I just didn't expect you to be so big, you rascal. You were hiding that from me for this long?" He laughs and shrugs his shoulders with a flustered look on his face.

"It's all yours now princess." you giggle and pull him in while you reach down and stroke him a few times before giving him the sign you were ready. He couldn't believe your cute hands were doing something so dirty. He reaches to the pillow next to yours and pulls a condom from underneath it, earning a sly smirk from you and a coy look from him.

He moans quietly when he pushes into you and presses a kiss to your forehead when he sees your face scrunch up. The stretch was much better than his fingers. He stills and lets you adjust for a moment before you beg him to move, to which he teased you for being so desperate.

His thrusts are slow and deep, passionate. You can feel his love pouring into you with each snap of his hips.

"Fuck, you feel so good. So tight." He says in such a seductive tone that it makes you moan out loud. He loves when you do that. When you lose control, show yourself unfiltered. He thought it was the sexiest thing you could do. And lucky for him, you'd keep doing it.

The closer you got to cumming again the more you lost your composure. You'd started meeting his thrusts, making him go even deeper and hit the spots you could never get on your own.

Your whimpers were his new favorite song, and that's saying something. Beating Black Sabbath? You were really something to him.

And then you started pulling on his hair, and he knew he wasn't going to last long. He was clenching his jaw, trying to keep his noises in, but it only worked for so long. Soon he was moaning and groaning into your ear. It only turned you on more (if that was even possible) and you wrapped your legs around him.

His eyes were darting from your bouncing tits under his hellfire shirt and you face that was contorting in pleasure.

You felt the knot start to snap again and you told eddie between your breaths. You came again, your body spasming and tightening around him. The clench of your walls was enough to bring him there too, and his abs tensed and the grip he had on the pillow behind you tightened when he released with a deep groan. He stayed still for a moment, the only sound being the remanence of your moans, now soft whimpers, and the heavy breathing of Eddie.

"Fuck. I have never cum so hard in my life." He confesses with a chuckle, pulling out of you gently and rolling to your side.

"You okay?" He turns to you and asks. You smile.

"Never better, handsome." He loved when you called him that. He kissed your shoulder.

Eventually Eddie got up and cleaned you both up before insisting you drink a glass of water. You both fell asleep fast after that. His head in your chest, hugging you, you playing with his hair.

#eddie #eddie munson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x reader #stranger things season 4 #st4 #stranger things season four #stranger things #stranger things 4 #eddie munson smut #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanart #eddie munson edit #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot

[farfaras]

Part 2.

What if Eddie moved on from thinking Steve and Nancy should get back together when Jonathan came back and saw how they’re actually destined to be together even tho they still have shit to figure out.

I know it’s a popular hc that Eddie and Robin clock each other immediately BUT I still think that as two queer kids in a small backwards town they’re more worried about no one finding out about them so they wouldn’t notice someone else. So worried about themselves that they (like straight people) also fall into the mindset of ‘everyone is straight until proven otherwise’.

What’s the result of this? Eddie seeing how close Robin and Steve are and thinking there must be something there. And because Steve is a little more affectionate than Robin, now Eddie thinks he’s pining after her.

“Why aren’t you and Robin together?”

“It’s not like that. She’s my best friend.”

“I don’t buy it.”

So now Steve has to put up with Eddie constantly going on about how Steve should just ask her out already, what’s he waiting for, she probably likes him back.

It bothers Steve to no end. He wished society had advanced enough to realize that men and women can be platonic friends without having to explain themselves.

A nightmare.

And Steve would never out Robin, so telling him the truth wasn’t an option. And he really wasn’t interested in dating anyone right now, so that was out of the question. What could he do to get Eddie to understand that him and Robin would never happen?

Then he remembered. It seemed so distant but Steve actually tried to tell Robin he liked her once. It was kinda embarrassing to think about now, specially because he saw Robin as nothing more than a friend now. He couldn’t even remember what having a crush on her ever felt like. And maybe he never even had one, shitty friends and shitty parents maybe warped his perception and then he couldn’t see the difference between platonic and romantic feelings. Well, that was for another day. He could tell the difference now. He thinks.

He could just tell Eddie about that moment in starcourt. He would just leave out the part about Robin having absolutely bad taste in girls. Foolproof. Eddie would leave it alone now.

“What? She just rejected you and then you decided to become her best friend?” He looked surprised, like the idea was impossible to understand.

“And I don’t regret it. She’s the best friend I’ve ever had.”

“You’re crazy.” Steve didn’t expect that.

“What do you mean?”

Eddie looked at him and his expression was hard to read. “You’re telling me that after being rejected you didn’t need time away? Just jumped to being a platonic friend? Despite your feelings?” He scoffed. “I could never do that.”

“It wasn’t that hard.”

“Now I know you’re lying. You still like her?”

Steve really tried to convince Eddie that he didn’t like Robin anymore. But no matter what he would say he didn’t believe him.

So Steve gave up.

Now he goes along with it. It’s easier. It stopped Eddie from trying to set them up or whatever.

Except it didn’t.

Now Eddie came up with the absolute great idea of making her jealous. Which was so so ridiculous Steve had to hold back laughter. He didn’t mention how much Robin had heard about past dates. This was beginning to amuse him just a little bit.

“How would I even do that?” Steve asked, curious as to what Eddie would come up with.

“You know? Let me think about this.” He made a show of putting his hand on his chin, contemplating. “Show up at work with some marks on you neck. You know, see how she reacts to that knowledge.” Steve knows how Robin reacts to that. Before Vecna, on his endless quest to find ‘the one’ (what a waste) he had some hookups. One time he went into work with one or two hickeys on his neck. Robin wouldn’t even bat her eyes, just would ask ‘who was it now?’ and then ask if he would see her again. The answer was no. Eddie didn’t know this.

“Yeah well, I really don’t feel like going on a date and hooking up with someone just to use it to bait a reaction. Seems kinda cruel to the other person.” Steve thinks that should be enough to shut this idea down.

“Huh. Maybe you’re better than me because I didn’t even think about that.”

Steve doesn’t reply, just snorts. And he thinks that’s gonna be the end of it. There’s nothing else Eddie can really do or come up with. Right?

Wrong.

“I could do it.” Did Steve hear that right? Huh?

“What?” Steve asked.

“Give you a hickey. It’s no big deal, really.”

If you asked Steve why he said yes. Man, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. He really doesn’t know! It’s like someone possessed him and he was moving his mouth, but it wasn’t him. Maybe it was because he couldn’t come up with a reason not to do it fast enough that would convince Eddie.

They were both sitting on the couch so Eddie just leaned in and started on a spot on the left side of his neck. Steve’s hand instinctively moved to the back of Eddie’s head. One wouldn’t think so based on its appearance but Eddie’s hair was surprisingly soft.

Suddenly there were teeth scraping his neck. Steve let out a noise that he hadn’t heard before. He accidentally pulled a little on Eddie’s hair, he was gonna apologize but Eddie didn’t seem to mind, he just hummed.

“Did you just bite me?”

Eddie pulled back and sneered. “Sorry. I let my impulsive thoughts win.” What does that even mean?

Steve was gonna ask if that did it but then Eddie moved to his lap, straddling him. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the other side?” Makes sense? Honestly his mind was getting a little mushy and was only focusing on Eddie’s weight on him. When Eddie leaned in again, Steve’s hands traveled to rest on his hips. Eddie’s on his shoulders to have leverage, his hips hovering now.

Steve tipped his head back to give him a little more space. With more space Eddie seemed to be satisfied with that spot and moved lower, however this next one was sensitive to Steve, he’s always known that. He was gonna say so but he couldn’t, Eddie was already on it. He let out a breathy sound and gripped Eddie’s hips tighter making him slam back on his lap. He thinks Eddie moaned, he’s not sure tho. “Sorry.” He muttered.

He didn’t think he’d enjoy this.

He did.

Maybe he should put a stop to it.

He hasn’t so far.

It went on a little longer. Some hands wandering. Some sounds uttered. Minds getting floaty.

He knew it was coming to an end when Eddie started leaving kisses to soothe the spots, he trailed until he got to his ear. Which he actually licked. It was probably to make a joke but it only made Steve shiver.

“I think you’re done.” Eddie said. He hesitated a second before climbing off his lap.

Steve knew he looked winded. Eddie tried to look casual but he’s known him for a while and could see that it was feigned casualness.

“Uh. Good.” Lame. Steve is lame.

Mike Wheeler was right because Steve Harrington is lame.

How is he gonna explain this to Robin?

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #eddie x steve #stranger things s4 #stranger things #stranger things 4 #steve harrington x eddie munson #I was looking at a burn my flat iron left on my neck #thought it looked like a hickey #then I thought about steddie and hickeys #because of course #my hyperfixation is stronger than ever #every thought I connect to steddie #and then this happened #this is more crack than anything #me thinks #crack #english is my second language #wait guys #they don’t even know they like each other yet #and they do this shit #mer writes sometimes #ficlet #headcanon

[howtofightwrite]

So second question. Quarterstaffs are a lot more dangerous than people realize right? Like…big long sticks with a bit more weight on one end are remarkably effective weapons. But my question is this…how risky is it to actually fight an armed opponent with one?

Because I’d imagine if you’re fighting someone say armed with a sword that the blade could slide down the staff and cut into your fingers or someone with a spear (which is essentially just a quarterstaff with a sharp pointy bit on the end) could potentially just whack yours out the way and stab you with it. That’s saying nothing about an armored opponent.

Would a metal quarterstaff be an effective weapon against armor? I seriously doubt a wooden one would be…then again if you had metal coating on one end or a little ball that probably ruin someone’s day should you whack them with it now wouldn’t it…hm.

Anyway, quarterstaffs. Good weapon or no? Also potential upsides to wood Vs metal staffs? Or potentially mixed staffs with mostly wood and metal bits…I’m rambling anyway bye

The staff is the parent of all polearms. The OG. The GOAT. Spawner of a billion martial styles in cultures and countries all over the world and remains a foundational part of many of them. It is also the parent of the sword. Many versions of the sword, especially early versions and two handed versions, share the same strike patterns and work off the same principles. If your character knows how to use a sword, they were more than likely trained to use a staff first.

For martial traditions, the staff is Baby’s first weapon. Is it a good weapon?

Oh, yes.

Is it risky to fight one?

Yes, it is risky to fight someone wielding a staff. While staves are most often overlooked by the general (mostly American) public due to their simplicity, they can be a very dangerous weapon. They can break bones, smash heads, knock loose teeth, bust internal organs, and they leave pretty deep bruises even with light or accidental training injuries. The most common staff training injury involves smashed fingers. Lots, and lots, and lots of smashed fingers. The strike pattern is also simple, easy to learn, and perfectly viable for self-defense without knowing more advanced techniques or having the luxury of devoting a lot of time to practice.

Staves (like the bow and the spear) are paleolithic weapons. Every culture on earth has their own version. The staff has combat applications that survive to this day due to their versatility and ease of use. They’re cheap(ish) to make compared to alternatives, easy to learn, ridiculously effective, and capable of holding off multiple opponents at once. (This includes people wielding swords.) Due to the lengthy period of time where they remained peak, it’s not a stretch to say staves are the most commonly used if not the most popular self-defense weapon in human history.

If you get outside American media, you’ll see staff weapons get a lot more prominent as a weapon of use because of the strong martial traditions associated with them. They’re also extremely prominent in myth. The staff really is the commoner’s weapon, which is probably the reason American fantasy tradition ignores it.

I’m not sure if you came into this question thinking quarterstaff meant all staves, or if your question specifically relates to quarterstaves. However, since you specified the quarterstaff, we’ll stick with that one. (There are other variants. They are legion.)

The quarterstaff is the English version from the Middle Ages. The name denotes a specific type of staff, usually about an inch in diameter and between six to nine feet in length. The quarter refers to “hand position” which would be about quarter up the length, and where the staff was held in this particular martial style. The quarterstaff is a short staff in medieval tradition, long staves were between eleven to twelve feet in length.

These were solid wood, usually cut from oak or yew. They’re not brittle. If that wasn’t enough, the ends were often also shod with iron. So, yeah… Yay, blunt force trauma. You could use quarterstaves against armored opponents, but there are better tools.

Staff Combat

You don’t normally swing a staff outside having a specific reason to hold it with one hand at the end to fully maximize its reach in a wide arc. You give up a ton of control to do this, and that makes it a risky move.

The staff is a weapon of leverage. You rotate it into forward strikes with your back hand, while using the front hand midway up the weapon as the guide. This allows the wielder to strike with both ends by using the back hand as a fulcrum. The basic strike pattern is an X, also across the body on either side, down on the head, up through the groin, you can thrust forward, and you can shoot the staff forward too. Shooting is basically throwing it with your back hand through your loosened grip to gain greater momentum and force when the front end strikes the opponent. It’s a controlled, short-range throw where the weapon never truly leaves your hands.

Hand position changes and adjusts on the shaft depending on how you’re using it. If you’re predominantly utilizing the front end for quicker, smaller movements and more precise strikes, the hands will be set wider apart with one in the middle and one closer to the end. If you’re planning to transition with strikes between the front and back ends, your hands will be closer together and utilize the shaft’s central balance point. This isn’t an either or, you can shift between positions and strike patterns in combat, which is part of the staff’s versatility as a weapon.

Due to the staff’s reach, the whole of your opponent’s body from their feet to their head is available as a target. Don’t discount the power of exterior strikes to the limbs, especially the joints. Most combat strategies start outward and work inward as the opponent’s defense begins to break.

The strike pattern occurs in simple strikes (tip forward or diagonal or side and back to hit again) or in a figure eight as you transition the weapon into various defensive blocks and strikes while moving it across in front of (or, more rarely, behind) your body.

Due to being able to use both ends, you can gain 360 degrees of protection without having to adjust your stance, your grip, or where you’re pointing the bladed end. This, in addition to its range, is why the staff is a better weapon than the sword for defending against multiple opponents.

Don’t swing. Rotate. Sweep. Strike. The staff doesn’t need big moves to generate force because the force of the strike is focused into the tip. Traditional staff combat maintains the same narrow focus around the body’s center that sword combat does. You can, for example, fight with a staff in a narrow corridor. It’s not ideal, but it’s doable and the staff is perfectly capable of maintaining your advantage over an opponent with a shorter weapon or no weapon at all. If you’re imagining the large, controlled spins of some Chinese martial arts, it’s important to remember that those staves are largely made from bamboo and different materials create different combat styles. Oak is, pardon the euphemism, stiff wood. It’s heavier.

The staff is also very fast because of the rotation of the back hand, deals a lot of force, and one never has to worry about maintaining an edge.

In simple terms when thinking about using a staff: block with the front end, then rotate the staff over across your body and clock your opponent across the face with the back end. Then rotate it over again and hit your opponent on the head or, don’t bother and thrust it into their face.

The Quarterstaff versus the Sword

With weapons, it’s important to remember that the concept isn’t about which does the most damage but which tool is the right or most effective tool for the job. Every weapon has situations where they shine and situations where they don’t. It’s contextual.

The staff has an advantage over the sword in one-on-one combat. Sometimes, if historical records are to be believed, in three on one combat. However, every weapon is dangerous in combat. This isn’t rock beats scissors. Disadvantages can be overcome.

For swords cutting through staves, think about it like trying to cut down a tree with a pocket knife. It’s not going to happen. Sword’s edge will nick or get stuck in the wood, so it’s not going to easily slide down to cut fingers. That’s if the sword edge can get into range to reach the fingers. Like all staves, the quarterstaff is a weapon where grip adjustment easily changes both reach and fighting style.

The medieval longsword runs between three to four feet. The quarterstaff is six to nine, and probably, most commonly, between seven to eight. If you transition to hold it at the end like one would a spear and primarily thrust, the reach advantage is maximized.

It isn’t necessary to do that, though. It’s combat where only one side has to worry about maintaining their edge, but that edge is still dangerous if they get close enough. Both are still going to be striking on the same angles and using the same circles.

Take the weapon out of the way and come back across into the strike.

The Spear vs The Quarterstaff

This is just staff combat where one has a pointy, bladed bit on the end and the other doesn’t. There’s actually not an extreme advantage here, though the wielder with the spear is probably going to prioritize their point for striking.

These two really aren’t different weapons. More likely to see smashed hands here.

Metal Staves

They exist. I don’t know if they existed in England though. They never gained popularity over the wooden ones because they’re more resource intensive and wood works better than fine anyway. Solid steel or hollow steel vibrate more than wood. One of the major considerations of staff combat is vibration. The weapon vibrates on contact which wears out your muscles and is hard on your grip. (You know, in case you thought constant movement was the only part that’d wear you out.) This is one of the side effects about not worrying over maintaining the sword edge. You can clang staves together the way you can’t with edged weapons, and that leads to a lot more vibration over a shorter period of time.

Staves with Metal Balls on the End

These also exist. They’re found on other polearm variants specifically designed to go after opponents in armor.

Every weapon has a place where it shines, and a place where it doesn’t.

So, where are staves outshone by swords and spears?

Warfare. Specifically, in military combat. They’re better at one-on-one combat and self-defense. There are just better, more specialized tools for military combat.

There is no best weapon. There’s just the right tool for the situation or circumstance. You can certainly take a staff into combat with an armored opponent (people did) and be successful, but there are better tools for the job. Spears are a better ground weapon in terms of attacking in formation, they work well when combined with a shield, and are a better defense against cavalry.

The irony about the sword is that it’s the original sidearm, it isn’t meant to be the primary weapon, and it is for close range fighting. So, it’s a great weapon when you’re packed into a tight melee, don’t have a lot of room, and need a weapon that works well without requiring a lot of space to build momentum. It’s also easy to carry around if you’re planning to sit down to dinner. It doesn’t take up a lot of space.

By reframing how you think about weapons from “does X amount of damage” like video games have trained us to do and think about them as contextually relevant, you’ll have a better understanding of how and why certain weapons were relevant and how they gained prominence throughout history.

-Michi

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#how to fight write #michi answers #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #staff

[it-happened-one-fic]

10 Seconds - Floyd

Author Notes: I'm not gonna lie, I had a lot of fun writing this. This fic was pretty much entirely inspired by a scene in chapter 111 in Akagami no Shirayukihime (Snow White with The Red Hair). After I found out that Floyd and Obi had the same voice actor, the temptation was to great for me to resist. As per usual, reader is gender-neutral. I hope you enjoy!

Type: Fluff/ flirtation/ romance/ kind of spoofy/ Reader does have a pushy admirer so be warned on that note

Word Count: 1890

There was something about persistent wanna-be lovers that made one nervous enough to look to even the most shady sources of help. Including Octaveinelle.

“So this young man has been bothering you for…?” Jade trailed off as he looked up from the glass he was currently polishing to where I sat, right in front of him, at the bar.

“A little over a month now, I think.” I frowned as I recounted the numerous times the Pomefiore junior in question had just ‘happened’ to be right where I would inevitably run into him.

 I would be trapped there, having to interact with him and dodging his advances until I was saved by some passerby or thought up a reasonable excuse to leave.

I could’ve gone to Vil for help, considering it was one of his dorm members. But I also didn’t entirely want to put my annoyingly persistent and considerably pushy admirer through quite that much sorrow.

I did, however, want this handled, and me turning him down numerous times as politely as possible simply wasn’t cutting it. Which was why I went to Octavinelle to seek the advice of the infamous tweels. After all, they handled a lot of Azul's issues. Surely they would have advice for handling one persistent admirer.

Floyd let out a low whistle from behind me, causing me to twist slightly to glance at the young man who ought to be sweeping but was now just propped up on the broom’s handle as he shook his head, “Stubborn guy.”

His eyes found mine as a grin crossed his face, and I realized very quickly that I didn’t want to know exactly what Floyd was thinking. That wasn’t really one of his nice grins….

“Come now, Floyd. We can’t exactly blame the poor fool for being quite so smitten with our darling little Prefect, can we?” I almost grimaced at Jade’s teasing tone as I turned in time to catch his mocking, sharp-toothed smile.

“Guys,” I didn’t even bother fighting the whine that slipped into my tone. “I just want some advice. I can’t get him to go away, and I’ve already tried being blunt.”

Jade smiled in an indulgent manner down at me before a frown crossed his face, “I suppose it is rather problematic and concerning if he’s been at it this long.”

He sat the glass down with a tiny clink on the bar as he continued to ponder my plight, “You said he’s a Pomefiore student?”

I nodded, wondering exactly what Jade was thinking as Floyd slipped up next to me, propping himself on the bar, “Should I just scare him off? That’d probably do it.” 

Floyd sounded perfectly willing to do just that as he looked at me with that sharp-toothed grin of his before looking towards his brother. 

But he was soon frowning in confusion as Jade started to shake his head with a slight frown, “No, if he’s as determined as I fear, then I doubt that would solve the problem for little more than three days.”

That mocking smile appeared on Jade’s face again, even though he wasn’t actually looking at either me or his brother, as he continued, “Besides. Those Pomefiore boys are the schooling sort. Always flitting about in a group. If we tried aggression, he’d just come back with his friends, and that would make things more difficult for you, wouldn’t it, Prefect?”

He looked towards me as he finished, and I nodded glumly, “A squad probably would make it tougher.”

Especially since Pomefiore squads were known to be aggressive. Turning him down in front of his posse could be risky at best.

A chuckle slipped from the vice-housewarden’s lips as he smiled at me, “Now, now. There’s no need to make such a face. The solution is really quite simple, isn’t it?”

I perked up at his words, looking at him hopefully before I frowned once I noticed his grin, “What’s it gonna cost?”

The twins laughed together, their voices joining in a strange harmony that made me tense ever-so-slightly. 

“Oh, it’ll be on the house this time. After all, this will be most amusing for both of us.” Jade’s words seemed to surprise Floyd as much as they did me.

Unperturbed by our obvious confusion, Jade leaned forward with an undoubtedly conspiratorial grin. Propping himself on his elbows as he gestured both of us closer with a single flick of his long fingers, “Listen closely…..”

And that was what had brought me to this moment, as I let out a quiet exhale before rounding the corner.

I didn’t even have to worry about setting the guy up. I knew exactly where he’d be.

Propped up on the wall in that careful pose he was always in when he was waiting for me to come and just ‘happen’ to bump into him.

And sure enough, there he was. Leaning against the wall with one arm raised so that he had me slightly caged in from the very second I rounded the corner.

“Prefect! What a surprise,” His perfectly white teeth flashed almost blindingly, and I fought not to gag at the raw amount of perfume he was wearing. 

It was a good thing he hadn’t brought his posse; I probably would’ve passed out from the raw amount of perfume that would’ve been in the air.

But I smiled. Pretending to be surprised and not at all frustrated by his persistent, unwanted affections as I carefully went back through the plan that Jade had laid out in my head.

Interact with him like everything was normal while waiting until reinforcements came, and then follow those very simple directions that Jade had given.

So I waited. Awkwardly exchanging pleasantries and smiling up at the young man who now leaned increasingly closer despite how much I would like him to say far away. He was no doubt about to drop some sort of new line that was intended to sweep me off my feet but would be far more likely to make me grimace.

And right as he opened his mouth with a grin that spoke of some very misplaced confidence, I heard the exact thing I’d been waiting for.

“Shrimpy~” Floyd’s sing-song call came from behind me, and I turned so fast that I almost missed the deep frown that appeared at impressive speeds on my admirer’s face.

“Floyd!” I didn’t have to fake my joy at seeing him, though I couldn’t say the same for him considering that Floyd himself looked entirely bored as he looked towards the Pomefiore junior that now stood stiffly silent. Already frustrated by the mere presence of Floyd.

For a brief moment, I was honestly worried about how well Jade’s scheme was going to go over until Floyd’s gaze shifted and his eyes met mine. Because then there was an entire change to his person.

His gaze softened ever so slightly, and his lips twitched up in an absentminded smile as he walked over, all but cooing at me affectionately, “There you are.”

He didn’t stop until he was right next to me, looking down at me, and then I knew the moment of truth was upon us.

I could hear Jade’s amused voice in my head as I braced myself, swallowing as I recalled his words: “Ten seconds. You will need to stare into each other’s eyes for ten seconds. But that’s all it will take.”

Floyd was far calmer than I was as he slipped off his blazer and draped it over my shoulders, blocking the cool breeze that came through the open window.

 His voice was quieter than usual, though still playful as he spoke, “There you go; can’t have you getting cold.” And that was my cue that we were beginning.

One.

My hand reached up to tug his oversized jacket a little closer around my body, and my hand brushed lightly against his fingers that lingered at my shoulders.

Two. Three. Four.

I twisted just a little bit more so that I could look at him better as his hand slid down my arm so that his arm was wrapped around my shoulders.

Five. 

It was already getting sort of awkward to keep staring for this long into Floyd’s mismatched eyes for this long. But now I was beginning to think more about the color of his irises than the actual situation we were in.

Six. Seven.

One was a yellow color. Not a sickly yellow, but rather it was a warmer color that made me feel oddly safe considering the young man I was looking up at. The other eye was a surprisingly gentle olive that was also welcomingly familiar and spoke of how, in certain moments, Floyd himself could actually be quite gentle.

Eight. Nine.

I could feel numerous people staring at us, and I was fairly certain that one of them was definitely Jade. He was probably utterly delighted by how uniquely embarrassing this really was. Because even though I’d been prepared to feel a little self-conscious, I hadn’t been expecting to be this flustered. Especially since it was just Floyd….

Ten.

Floyd’s smile grew by just a fraction, and then he blinked, “I reckon I’ll see you later. I know you can’t miss your class. Good little student that you are~” He let go of my arm with an affectionate squeeze as he continued to look down at me. But this time with amusement in his gaze and a teasing lilt to his voice.

I swallowed down my overwhelming shyness as I looked away, blinking as I attempted to force my recovery by focusing on his teasing. 

But even then, my voice wobbled as I quipped back, not quite able to look back up at him, “Unlike you, I actually have to study to keep my grades up.”

Out of my peripheral vision, I could tell he was fully grinning now, “Aww, if you ever need help, you can just ask. If you're nervous about Azul, I can help you out.”

He leaned down and into my line of sight so that he could wink at me, and I let out an exhale. Reminding myself that this was Floyd I was dealing with. Not some incredibly romantic male lead who was here to sweep me off my feet and actually be successful.

Which brought me back to my admirer, who was still standing there, staring in open-mouthed shock. 

“Ex- Excuse me, I lost track of time with Floyd and really do need to get to class now,” I  was still flustered enough that I stammered slightly before I flashed him an apologetic grin before I trotted off. 

As I fled the scene, I passed a chuckling Jade and mouthed a quick, ‘Thank you,’ before hurrying on. Attempting to outrun the oddly shy sensation I now felt at the thought of being near Floyd and entirely missing what happened behind me as I fled the scene.

“You haven’t gotten anywhere in a month, and it only took me ten seconds.” So saying, Floyd glanced down at the Pomefiore student, who almost immediately puffed up with indignance that quickly deflated as Floyd grinned in a way that perfectly displayed his too-sharp teeth.

“You might as well just try somewhere else, ‘cause you aren’t going to be stealing Shrimpy away from me anytime soon.”

#Twisted wonderland x reader #Floyd x reader #Twisted wonderland imagines #briarvalleyarchives #Floyd leech #Disney TW #twst #Twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #fluff #romance #flirtation #featuring Jade #The tweels probably had to much fun here #Floyd x you #Floyd x y/n #Floyd Leech x reader #Twisted wonderland x you #Twisted wonderland x y/n #twst x reader #twst x y/n #twst x you #mywritings #octavinelle #inspired by scene from akagami no shiraukihime #it-happened-one-fic #Disney fanfiction #pushy pomefiore guy #fanfiction #fanfic

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Always a man, a city, and a lighthouse...

"Robin, Red Robin, stay back for a minute," Batman said as he dismissed everyone for patrol. "I have a new mission for you. Dozens of civilians have gone missing around the decommissioned Gotham City Lighthouse." A few clicks and the Batcomputer displayed a map of the Upper West Side, a highlight on the lighthouse. "I want you both to investigate the building. Everyone who's gone missing entered the lighthouse, but nothing has been found by the police. I suspect that the lighthouse is being used for gun smuggling, but we need more information.

"That's where you two come in."

Or, I've been reading too much of @virgamsysxvolumes 's Lucky Rush AU, and wanted a true Bioshock AU for dc x dp.

Underneath the city, in the vast and endless caverns beneith Gotham, lies the subterranean city of Amity. Amity was the pet project of the mad scientist couple, the Drs. Fenton, to investigate the effects of ectoplasm on humans, but with the help of their best friend, Vlad Masters, they transformed Amity into a Technocracy City filled with scientists, and completely lacking in morals.

Or at least, that's how it was ten years ago, before the creation of Plasm (the Adam replacement), a neon green goo that's basically meth that gives you superpowers. Everyone from the top scientists to the lower working class starting doping on Plasm, which gave people the ability to control fire, create hallucinogenic spores, summon bats, etc. Vlad, the mayor, was deposed in a cue let by the Fentons and the city descended into anarchy, with people from the surface getting lured down from the lighthouse so they can continue their experiments.

The Fentons are 100% not good people in this. Jack is in charge of all the technological advances in Amity, while Maddie has created human/ghost hybrids--the Little Sisters of the story--that can naturally harvest ectoplasm from dead bodies to use for experiments. Once everyone's hooked on Plasm, the Little Sisters are in danger from acting Splicers, so she creates Big Daddies to protect them.

Danny is the only Little Brother, and Jazz is the only Big Sister. Vlad turned them both into monsters as revenge against the Fentons for the cue, but the couple didn't really care, with Jack barely acknowledging he has children, and Maddie acting like they were never turned into monsters to begin with. Not sure about ages... Jazz is probably the same as her canon age, but if Danny is still 14, he looks 10, tiny and malnourished and pale.

Tim and Damian are trapped in Amity after an automatic system determines them as good test subjects. The AI filters out any cops, so that's why the police never found anything. The elavator brings them down into the city, showing a sweeping shot of neon in the darkness of the caves, and the boys figure out pretty quickly something is blocking their calls.

Tim gets super injured early on. I think, a Jack Fenton booby trap (that exclaims that it's a Jack Fenton Booby Trap moments before activating, which should be funny, but isn't when death lasers are being launched at him.). Damian gets captured, and that's when Tim is contacted by Vlad, who is our Atlas stand in for the game, only Tim immediately realizes that this man is sketchy af.

But unfortunately, in order to rescue Damian, Tim has to splice himself with Plasm. Maybe its for fire-wielding, or telekinesis but Tim can't get to wherever Damian is being held and, while torn, splices himself to save Damian.

Damian was kidnapped because his exposure to Lazirus Waters made a Big Daddy think he was a Little Sister, so it brought him back to the Casper Academy, which is where Little Sisters drop their harvests off in the care of William Lancer. Lancer looks after the girls because Maddie Fenton is too busy, but it's against his will despite him caring for them all. He's trapped in the building, can't leave or he dies. He's actually relieved to know that Vlad is still alive and trusts him, because to Lancer he was just a good mayor who was overthrown and the Fentons are the real bad guys, just look what they did to their kids!

This is where the batkids first learn about Danny and Jazz, although they don't meet them until a while after this. Danny actually ends up being the one leaving Plasm out for Tim every time he rescues a Little Sister. (Sidenote, they end up killing people while in Amity. While both do have death counts, the problem with Amity is that they have to use stronger and stronger levels of force to get people to go down, leading them to escalating and killing quite a few).

Lancer points them to communications to get their comms working again, and that area is run by Damon Grey.

At some point after comms are back on, the two learn that Red Hood actually came in after them after hours of no communication and has been captured by Maddie Fenton, who intends to turn him into a Big Daddy.

In late story, it's revealed that Jack Fenton was murdered before the cue even happened, and that the Jack Fenton they'd been communicating with the entire time was an AI assistant created by living Jack to keep his work going. The cue was actually retaliation from Maddie and the Jack AI for murdering Jack.

The story would eventually end with Tim, Damian, and Jason freeing all the Little Sisters along with Danny and Jazz.

#dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #bioshock au #bad parents jack and maddie #c: tim drake #c: damian wayne #c: danny fenton #c: jazz fenton #c: vlad masters #c: maddie fenton #c: jack fenton #c: bruce wanye #c: william lancer #c: damon grey #badass jazz fenton #child danny fenton #meta tim drake #c: jason todd #dc crossover #dp crossover #tw: child abuse #tw: human experimentation #tw: murder #i've never written batman before and you can tell #i just wanted a genuine steampunk bioshock au #let my babies be unhinged and grapple with their identities as human beings

[kimetsu-chan]

~can’t sleep headcanons~

A/N: I’ve been sleeping crappy the past three nights and tn I extra doubly can’t sleep, so ofc I’m writing this at 4 am 🤩 (I apologize in advance for any mistakes made—)

Characters: Akutagawa, Fyodor, Dazai, Ranpo

TWs ⚠️ reader cries, bc I cried(Fyodor, Dazai), Nicknames (Myshka)(Fyodor) (Belladonna, Donna)(Dazai), GN!Reader

Man, being tired is rough—

Akutagawa Ryūnosuke

Akutagawa most likely wouldn’t notice right away

whether that be because he is asleep, out of the house, or just busy in general

but he would come home one day to you laying face down on your shared bed, spread out like a star fish

he’d raise an eyebrow at you before checking if you were awake

once he confirmed that you were, he would question why you were up so late

and in your tired state, you would unintentionally retort back with unusual hostility in your tone

“[Name], why is it that you are awake at two in the morning.”

“Why are you just coming home from work at two in the morning.”

His mouth would instantly shut, not used to your annoyance

you would almost immediately apologize with a distraught expression on your face and he would immediately understand

seeing the reason for your stress, he quickly dismissed your earlier words

he would be quick in showering himself before slipping into bed with you and wrapping his arms around you

he didn’t really like physically affection often, he had a tough guy facade to hold up. But he guessed he could make an exception for you

Fyodor Dostoevsky

This man doesn’t sleep much either, so he doesn’t bother scolding you for it

he is likely the only one to actually be helpful about it

he would be working away at his desk in your guys’ room, and he would hear the rustling of sheets behind him

he would turn in his chair to look back at you with a blank expression

Fyodor had heard your struggles to sleep during previous nights, but tonight, you finally seemed to have had enough

he got up when he heard you angrily adjust your pillow, and made his way to the bedside before crouching down beside you

he saw the angry expression you bore on your face and blew on your face to wake you up

your teary eyes opened to glare at him and he realized just how frustrated you were

he reached out to wipe those tears before they could fall as he spoke in a quiet voice

”Now, now, Myshka, what’s with the tears?”

“‘m s’tired… but I can’t sleep no matter how hard I try-!”

Fyodor would hum in understanding, you were just exhausted

he stood back up all the way and figured he had some time to spare

he pulled you up and made his way to the kitchen with you tiredly clinging to his arm

”Let’s have a glass of milk, that should help.”

Dazai Osamu

He’s probably dead asleep beside you, and therefore won’t be of much help

there is also a good chance that he is the reason for your lack of sleep

this man will be sprawled all over you. And I mean all over you

he would have one leg thrown over yours, he would have his arm(s) wrapped around you in some way

he just has to be touching you

he also moves around a lot

which you normally don’t mind, but adding that to already not being able to sleep, geez you were frustrated

dont get me wrong, he is perfectly capable of being still and to himself in his sleep

he just doesn’t want to-

he can’t help wanting to be in constant contact with his precious Belladonna all night

but when you nudge him awake with tears ready to fall from your eyes, he instantly throws his wants out the window

he’d frown and wipe your tears away before asking what was wrong

“Oh ‘Donna— why are you crying?”

“I can’t- sleep, and you’re movin’ around s’much and it’s not helping..”

You didn’t mean to make it sound like it was his fault (even though it kinda was-)

but I’m your exhausted state, you couldn’t control it

instantly filled him as he pressed a kiss to your forehead

“I’m sorry ‘Donna… I’ll be still, I promise”

Ranpo Edogawa

Just like Dazai, he is likely the reason you cannot sleep in the first place

I headcanon that he is also a super restless sleeper in the sense that he moves a whole bunch

and maybe even kicks

so imagine you’re tired, and almost falling off the bed because he is taking all the space

deciding that you had enough, you grabbed your pillow and a spare blanket and trudged over towards the couch before plopping your tired self right down on it

you closed your eyes with a huff when you tucked yourself in, and began to drift off when you felt a weight on you

you opened your eyes to see Ranpo looking down at you

there was concern in his eyes, despite the unserious-ness of his statement

”[Name]? Why’d you leave? The world’s best detective needs his cuddle buddy.”

You quickly explained the reason of his absence and he nodded

you waited for a few seconds for him to leave, but he just stayed on top of you and made himself comfortable

“I guess I’ll just sleep on top of you then!”

His weight was actually kinda nice, and he was making an effort to be as still as possible

you eventually were pulled to sleep with the sound of your lover’s soft breathing in your ears

A/N: these were fun to write 🥰

but they took an hour—

n e ways

it is now almost five in the morning so I might as well just be up for the rest of the day 😃

Reblogs with tags are appreciated!

#🍁 #hehehe #bsd fanfic #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou sd #bsd akutagawa #akutagawa ryuunosuke #akutagawa x reader #Fyodor #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky bsd #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #bsd fyodor #dazai #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai #dazai x reader #ranpo edogawa #bsd ranpo #bungou stray dogs ranpo #ranpo x reader #bsd comfort #akutagawa comfort #Fyodor comfort #dazai comfort

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙞𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙙 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙙𝙚𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 • alpha!eddie munson x reader

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 • eddie's chances of being an alpha are quite small. your chances of presenting as an omega, especially while still in high school, are almost none. almost.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 • 10k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 • SMUT (18+ only, technically dubcon due to heat, omegaverse, unprotected sex), knotting, possessiveness and protectiveness, mentions of pregnancy/slight breeding kink, size kink (alpha!eddie is Large in every way), brief trypanophobia warning, mentions of/implied deceased parent (not reader's they're fine),

“The official term is enhanced sexual dimorphism, sometimes abbreviated as ‘ESD’,” Mrs. Mittelman explained, “but, you’re probably all more familiar with the names for the two enhanced sexes: Alpha, and omega.”

You sighed as you rested your chin on your fist.  Health class was always boring, and awkward.  Most of all, it didn’t seem very useful.  In all of Hawkins, you knew of six omegas and eleven Alphas.  Why did the curriculum need to dedicate a whole month to this when you, and everyone you knew, were going to end up not presenting at all and just be betas?

“Due to modern fertility advancements, these sexes are becoming more and more rare,” she continued to explain.  “Alphas and omegas, when in a mated pair, are significantly more fertile than a beta pair.  However, times are changing: after all, I think all of you have beta parents, don’t you?”

You didn’t even know anyone had raised their hand, until Mrs. Mittelman pointed behind you to someone in the back.

“Yes?” she prompted, and you turned around.  You were pretty sure his name was… Freddie?  No, wait— Eddie.  You’d seen him around, and he was sort of hard to forget with his… ostentatious styling, but you weren’t sure you’d ever heard him talk in class before.

“Uh, actually,” he cleared his throat, “my mom was an omega.”

“Oh!” Mrs. Mittelman nodded, looking a little wide-eyed.  “I didn’t realize that.  Well, then maybe some of what we’re talking about today will be more familiar to you.  I hope you’ll bear with us.”

Was.  There’s no going back after presenting, of course, so she must not be around anymore.  You saw him look down, and wondered if he regretted bringing it up at all, before you returned your focus to the board where the teacher was pointing to some particularly uninteresting charts.

“The window of development for Alphas and omegas is actually very narrow: about ninety percent of enhanced sexual presentations take place at age twenty-one,” she continued.  “The odds of presenting after age twenty-two are so astronomically low, that anyone who turns twenty-three without presenting is immediately registered as a beta.  Can anyone remember from this week’s assigned reading—”

Everyone groaned, realizing she was about to spring a pop quiz on the class.

“— what an individual’s odds are of presentation if their parents are an Alpha and an omega?”

A girl in the front row raised her hand, and the teacher pointed to her.  “Um, eighty-two percent?”

“Correct!” Mrs. Mittelman smiled.  “Okay, what about the odds of presentation if one’s parents were one Alpha and one beta?”

The boy that sat next to you on the right— James Richey, which you wouldn’t know if you hadn’t been paired with him on far too many assignments— raised his hand.  “Forty-five percent,” he answered.

“Ohh, a little lower,” she winced with her gentle correction, “anyone else wanna give that a try?”

Intimidated by James’ folly, it took an awkward pause for someone else to take a guess.  It was your closest friend in class, and likely in the whole school, Helen.  “Thirty?” she proposed.

“Well, twenty-nine, but yes,” Mrs. Mittelman.  “What about if the pair is one beta and one omega?  Mr. Munson, you should know this one— since it applies to you.”

The whole class turned back to look at Eddie, who was awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck.  “You see,” he began, “I agree with you that I should know that but, uh, I didn’t exactly… read the chapter.”

Mrs. Mittelman sighed slowly.  “Right, um, well… maybe someone else who did can tell us?”

“Twelve percent,” somebody behind you, from the other side, announced, and the teacher smiled.

“Yes!  That’s right,” she replied.  “Okay, last one: how likely is one to present if their parents are both betas?”

You raised your hand, because this one was the easiest to remember.  When you were called on, you answered: “The odds are less than one percent.”

“Yes, good job,” she smiled.  “Congratulations!  You all passed today’s pop quiz.  Your prize is… not having a pop quiz tomorrow.”

The bell rang; everyone reached for their backpacks and sighed with relief.  

“Tomorrow, we’ll be covering the rest of the chapter, so if you forgot to read it,” she said pointedly, “now’s the time to do so!”

You didn’t know a lot about the guy— hell, you’d forgotten his name— but you figured Eddie Munson was not going to read the chapter, even when given a second chance.  You don’t end up on your third senior year by reading the assigned material.  I wonder if it bothers him, being twenty years old and still in high school, you wondered, it would sure bother me.

But that was the last time you thought about Eddie Munson for about two weeks.  You didn’t plan on thinking about him again until maybe graduation, which you did hope to see him at, but you were forced to wonder about him when he was absent from class for an entire week.  Frankly, you were pretty sure he couldn’t afford a vacation.  A rumor had spread that he was in jail for dealing marijuana, but that was all you had to work with.  Helen thought maybe he was gone for good, moved back in with some other family— you hadn’t even known before this that he lived with his uncle, so maybe his dad was somewhere out there and he was spending time with him.

All the rumors were dispelled in an instant when Eddie returned.  As near-impossible as it seemed, it was even more impossible to deny when you saw it for yourself.

You were ten minutes into the midterm exam for Mrs. Mittelman’s health class when the door opened; in a silent room, it was instinctive to look up, but you choked when you saw him come in.  It was Eddie, for sure— that hair and Hellfire Club tee were unmistakable— but he was… different.

Completely different.

He was taller, to the point that Mrs. Mittelman was craning her neck to look up at him (though to be fair, she was already pretty short).  He was… bigger, specifically more muscular— his body was straining against his clothes, the half-sleeve of his shirt exposed the prominent veins of his forearm, even his ripped jeans struggled to hold him in anymore.  

“Sorry I’m late,” he said quietly to the bewildered teacher, and even when he deliberately spoke softly, his voice was clearly deeper.  She handed him a blank exam and he attempted to slip through the rows of desks to find his own seat.  You certainly weren’t the only pair of eyes following him across the classroom, or the only one noticing the way he struggled to fit back behind his own desk due to his radical change in size.  He cleared his throat and shifted in the chair, starting to take his test— and either not noticing, or successfully ignoring, the stares he was receiving.

At the same time, you and Helen looked at each other with wide eyes, and she mouthed something to you: What the fuck?!

Your entire class was specifically prepared to appreciate the anomaly of probability that this was.  Still, statistics be damned, it was clear that in the time Eddie Munson had disappeared, he’d become an Alpha.

Three months later…

“Oh come on,” you rolled your eyes, “that’s bull and you know it.”

“I’m not sure if you really believe that that attitude is going to help you in any way,” Principal Higgins frowned, “but to be completely clear: it will not.  Three dress code violations add up to an after-school detention.”

“But these are stupid violations!” you insisted.  “It’s not like I was walking around in a mini-skirt— look, this one says my sneakers were untied!  That’s ridiculous.”

“Arguing with me is considered disrespect of authority,” Higgins reminded you, leaning in closer, “which is also punishable by after-school detention.  I’d recommend that you stop now before you end up with two dates with me this week.”

You shut your eyes to stop yourself from rolling them, but relented.  That said, you were playing the interaction over and over in your mind as you sat at that desk in detention, arms crossed and lips curled in a sneer as you imagined really telling him off instead of laying down at taking it.

You jumped when the opening of the door startled you out of your fantasy, and there was Eddie— wow, he was even late to detention.

You looked down sheepishly as he crossed the room and took his seat, but once he was settled in front of you and off to the side, you had your first chance to get a good look at him after his… transformation.

It was a good thing his jacket was sleeveless, because it didn’t look like his arms would’ve fit through the sleeves if it had them.  It wasn’t that he was just outrageously ripped now or something, or that he was specifically some outrageous height… he was just big.  Alphas were built that way.  He towered over nearly everyone in school now; he stopped getting bullied immediately after he came back, that must’ve been a nice perk.  Still, for a guy who got so massive and so well-known practically overnight (or in this case, overweek), he didn’t seem that… happy?  

You looked down into your lap again.  Who were you to judge his emotions?  You didn’t know anything about him.  It was just that, well, he’d had a reputation for his antics and dramatic behavior before, but lately he was uncharacteristically quiet.  He never made a scene in the cafeteria anymore, he never talked back to teachers (which he’d apparently done plenty before, you’d seen it once or twice and Helen said it happened near-daily with Ms. O’Donnell), he was just… existing.  Maybe he was finally being normal.  The only problem with that theory is that, while you didn’t like to buy into stereotypes, you were confident that Eddie Munson would’ve been among the first to become better behaved after presenting as an Alpha.

You weren’t trying to be sexist, really!  Alphas were hormonally predisposed to aggression and impulsiveness, it was just a fact of the matter, especially when omegas or other Alphas were involved.  To be fair, that wasn’t really an issue in his case, in a school where literally no other students had ESD.  Technically, there was one other Alpha here, but he was a teacher… he was not only mated, but mature, and no one was exactly worried that he and Eddie were going to end up brawling on the lawn or something.  Alphas were always fighting over unmated omegas anyways, of which there weren’t any in Hawkins.

It made you wonder why Eddie stayed, if he had no chance of finding a true mate here.  Alphas and betas didn't get together very often, for reasons that weren’t explained in much detail in your health textbook.

Torn from your thoughts by the Principal clearing his throat and addressing the room, you looked up quickly.  “Now,” he began sternly, “all my regulars know I believe in working detention— labor is good for the soul!  And there’s lots of work to do on campus today so you three,” he gestured at some boys in the front, “you’re gonna be in the garden out front with our landscapers.  And you four in the back, you’re sweeping up the wood shop before you give our gymnasium a good mop.”

The other students stood, and you glanced at Eddie as you realized he was the only other person left sitting.

“Uhh, you two,” Higgins noticed, “you can go clean the cafeteria.  But we’re all out of mops, so, just grab some rags.”

“Rags?” Eddie noticed.  “We’re cleaning the entire cafeteria floor with rags?”

“Oh, not just the floor.  Table and chairs too.”

“Hopefully not in that order,” you breathed.

“Get to it,” he snapped, and Eddie gave you a quick look over his massive, hard shoulder before shrugging— god, his neck just seemed thicker when he did that.

Your eyes still found themselves lingering on the hulking mass of his body as the two of you were on your hands and knees wiping the laminate cafeteria floor.

"So," Eddie broke the silence, "you, uh… I haven't seen you in detention before."

"No," you agreed, "this is actually my first time."

"Oh wow," he smiled, "a detention virgin!  Don't worry, I'll be gentle."

You snorted, shaking your head as you looked at the floor again, but the off-color joke made you feel a little strange.  You blinked quickly and tried to get the image of Eddie being gentle out of your head.

"What are you in for?" he asked.

"Dress code," you nodded.

"Woah!  Something skimpy?"

"Not at all," you chuckled, "just, like, ripped jeans and a visible bra strap?  Apparently?"

"Aw, that's a shame," he smirked.  "I was thinking I missed you showing up in some sweet little number."

You raised an eyebrow at that, but said nothing, mainly because your throat was suddenly a little dry.

"A-anyways," he mumbled, "I'm sorry you're here."

"Ditto," you offered, "but I know you're here kind of a lot."

"Yeah," he sighed, focusing harder on one spot that he rubbed with the rag intensely, "not as much as I used to be, but yeah…"

"Used to be… before…" you pressed.

"Before I… got big, yeah," he nodded.

An interesting way of describing it.  Certainly an accurate way.

"Um," he cleared his throat, "I skipped class, that's what they popped me for this time."

"Which class?"

"Shop."

"Oh god, I don't blame you, that's my least favorite class," you hummed.

"Really?  People always say they like it cause it's easy," he shrugged, "thought I was the only one that hated it."

"No, it's so annoying!" you assured.  "First of all, most people aren't being safe and I'm always on edge thinking somebody's about to lose a finger— and the assignments are so stupid!  Building birdhouses and clocks?  Like, isn't the whole point of a high school education to be able to get a job so I can afford to just buy a birdhouse for a dollar?"

"I don't mind the part where we build stuff," he admitted, "I just don't like that we have to build it exactly like he says.  Why can't there be some room for creativity?"

You nodded in agreement, clearing your throat quietly but not quite getting the catch in it; you were looking at the floor, and noticed that you were seeing spots, but simply tried to blink them away.

"I hate it even more now that I keep accidentally breaking stuff…" he continued, trailing off.

"Accidentally?"

"I'm still getting used to it… I'm stronger, you know."

Was it warm in here all of a sudden?  When you first came in, it was a little chilly— normally this room was filled with warm bodies to heat it up, so it was pretty cold when it was empty… or, it had been.  Now you were starting to feel your clothes cling to you, face beginning to flush. 

"I broke a hammer.  Splintered the handle— I guess I was holding it too hard…"

That was when you lost your balance and had to sit on the floor, leaning back against the leg of a table.  The orange light of dusk, coming in through the blinds in stripes, was blurry and disorienting.  A numb heat started to rush through your body, and the quick shallow breaths that filled your lungs did little to keep you from getting dizzy.

“Hey,” you heard Eddie’s voice— his hand was hesitantly holding your shoulder now, and just that made you soothe slightly.  “You okay?”

"I…" you began, but you didn't know what to say.  “Eddie,” you said softly, “I don’t… I feel weird.”

His hand moved up to your forehead, and you sighed and shut your eyes to savor every moment of his touch.  “Christ, you’re burning up.”

Your hands reached out blindly, grabbing onto his thick thigh through his jeans.  You heard him cough slightly.  “Something’s wrong, just… just need you to stay with me,” you breathed.

"Um, o-okay," he agreed hesitantly, kneeling in front of you.  

It was like a sharp pain— a tightness that twisted inside you— and you hissed in a breath through your teeth as your sneakers slid on the tile.

"Do you need some water?" he wondered, and when his hand cradled your face for a second, you shuddered and relaxed against the table leg behind you.

"No, I just need… I…" you panted.  Just touch me more, you thought, though you didn't understand why.  Another pang hit your gut and you clutched your stomach, hunching forward with a wince.

"I-I'm gonna get the nurse," he promised, but you suddenly grabbed onto his arms tightly, stopping him from getting up.

"No, don't go," you panted, "don't leave— you can't leave me here, Eddie!"

"Okay, okay!  I'm not gonna leave!" he promised, frustrated at first but softening up when he saw how scared you were.  "I'm not gonna leave, I swear."

"I don't know what's happening," you whispered under your breath.  "God— what's happening to me?"

"You're just…" he began, trailing off, "you're— fuck, I don't know.  But I think it's… I don't know how, but I think you might be—"

"Just tell me!" you sobbed.

You were clawing at his jacket, desperate to touch his skin, desperate for anything he would give you.  That was when you first felt the heat gather between your legs, a pulse inside you just before a gush of wetness that almost made you worry you were wetting yourself— until you felt it, felt that need arch your back and throb in your channel.  It felt like being turned on, it wasn’t like you’d never felt that before, but it was so much more intense that it almost felt like a new sensation entirely.  Even though your mind didn't understand what was going on, your body was calling out for him: Alpha, Alpha, Alpha—

Something changed in the air then.

"What did you call me?"

His voice was just as dark as his eyes, and suddenly you stilled.  Oh god, you'd said it out loud.

"Say it again," he ordered; for what little you knew about all this, you knew why your body gave into his demand like it couldn't do anything else but obey. 

"Alpha," you whimpered, looking up at him.  But you knew what he was already— right then, you were realizing what you were.  Only omegas were susceptible to an Alpha's voice like that.  This isn't possible, this is not possible… I'm too young, my parents are betas, how is this happening to me?

"You're going to be okay," he promised, "I know… I know it hurts.  But I can make it better, I can help you."

You nodded, panting, going along with it because you just needed him, needed the help he was promising.  You felt dizzy and delirious, but somehow the feeling was sort of addictive— like you craved the cure as much as the sickness.  With Eddie here, it was tolerable, even though the waves of pain made you shudder and whine through your teeth.

“I’m gonna help you,” he whispered, again.

You blinked at him, trying to clear the haze from your eyes, and saw the dark shimmer in his own— his pupils had blown out wide, his nostrils were flaring; he kept shaking his head, like he was trying to clear his thoughts, and it made his fluffy hair rustle.  “How?” you finally asked.

His hands tightened as they gripped your shoulders, and you clutched at his chest, whimpering under your breath as you felt the strong muscle under his thin shirt and hot skin.  “Do you trust me?” he replied instead of answering.

You nodded.  “Anything, Alpha, please—”

“Fuck,” he choked, and you gasped as his face buried in the crook of your neck.  His nose brushed against your jaw, his mouth was right up against your pulse as he spoke.  “I can smell you, you know— I can smell what you are.  It’s… I read about it, but I never knew…”

Your eyes had already fluttered shut as you hung off of him, and you could smell him too; you were so overstimulated that it was hard to focus on it, but it was sort of musky and warm and smoky— and sweet.  Like a Christmas fireplace with roasted chestnuts and caramel just starting to toast on the stove; it was like a memory you hadn’t lived yet, nostalgia for a home you never had.

You whimpered slightly as he pulled away, reaching out for more of his touch, but he just looked at you with his mouth open a bit to let his heavy breathing pass through.  “I— I can help you, I’m gonna help you,” he kept insisting, speaking hurriedly as he opened his belt and jeans.  It was slightly disconcerting, but your need was growing and you were in no place to reject his help— not when searing pain bloomed from your gut, crawled up your back and into your mind where it demanded the touch of an Alpha.

Still, you had some sense left in you.  As well as plenty of fear; your eyes nearly popped out of your head when they caught a glimpse of his cock.  "No— no way," you shook your head, trying to scoot away, "it won't… it can't—"

"It'll fit," he insisted, his grip tightening for a moment on his concerningly-massive erection, "you're an omega.  You're made to take it."

Even as terror clawed at your mind, arousal was coursing through your veins; hearing him talk like that, seeing his body, it all called to something incredibly primal inside you.  Something you didn't even know you had… technically, maybe you didn't until just now.  Or maybe it was always there, waiting for Eddie— after all, you'd presented after being around him for the longest (and closest) you ever had.  

"I won't hurt you, I swear," he breathed, but you could hear his desperation, too.  It must be hard, presenting young in a town like Hawkins where all the omegas are already long-since mated and married— and maybe a little mature for a twenty-year-old anyways, if that mattered.  And as for betas, well, you'd heard that it was… difficult, for Alphas and betas to mate.  Now you saw directly why: it could kill them, trying to take this.  You were still afraid it would kill you.  "It won't hurt, it's… it's going to feel good.  It's natural."

"Okay," you nodded, "okay, just… talk me through this, please— Alpha, I'm scared…"

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace.  It should've been awkward, hugging a relative stranger, but it was so comforting… you sighed and held him, too, a bit of the ache inside you stilling.  And yet, your anticipation was growing: you felt another wave of slick start to leak out of you, and you whimpered slightly.

"Please," you whispered, "help me… I want you to."

"Shit," he blurted out, letting you go just long enough to peel his jacket off quickly.  "Just lay down, okay?" he offered as he put the jacket down on the floor behind you, not much padding from the hard tile but at least some protection from the coldness of it.  

You laid back, shivering as he climbed on top of you.  "Have you ever done this before?" you asked suddenly.  "Not just sex— helping an omega, specifically…"

It was kind of a stupid question, because where the fuck were these hypothetical omegas Eddie might have been with?  But you weren’t exactly thinking straight at the moment, understandably.  "Well, uh, no," he mumbled, "but I think I know how to do it.  I mean, I think I've always known— I couldn't tell you how, but… I can feel it."

You swallowed nervously.

"Trust me," he insisted.  "I know how much it hurts, I… just trust me.”

He was alone when he presented, after all; you finally put that together, and the thought of it inexplicably made your heart twist.  You knew nothing of the perils of presentation for an Alpha, but if anything like this… and he didn’t have anyone to hold him like he held you, to tell him it would be okay, to take the pain away… god, how did he survive it?

When he started to lift up your shirt, you did your best to help him— the wave of cool air on your overheated skin was almost a relief, until suddenly you were freezing.  You pulled him down close to you, feeling the warmth of him even through his shirt, and sighed happily.

He helped you out of your pants next, and you should've felt incredibly strange being completely naked in your fucking cafeteria.  But you didn't, you felt better even, you felt more natural than ever as his eyes drank you in and his hands carefully parted your thighs.

"See, all this— this is your slick," he explained, dragging two fingers through your swollen folds until you jolted from his touch.  

There was so much, you'd nearly soaked through your jeans, and just one swipe had soaked his thick fingers with clear, shiny arousal.

"It's gonna help you," he continued, panting slightly as he stared at his glistening hand.  "Fuck, you can smell it, right?  It smells so good."

You could smell something, but you wouldn't necessarily call it good… it was sort of earthy and sour, not like a perfume or candy or something.  Maybe it smelled different to him, or maybe he was just attracted to it anyway.  

"I think if Mr. Maxwell was here, he'd be able to smell it— from anywhere in the building," Eddie explained.  Mr. Maxwell was the only Alpha teacher at Hawkins High… you were suddenly very thankful he wasn't here.  He certainly didn't seem like the type to go after his own student for being a brand-new omega, but what did you know?

"What would happen, if he did?" you mumbled.  "If he smelled me?"

Eddie considered that for a second.  "I… I don't know.  I think he's able to control himself."

Well, that response begged a new question: "Can you?"

You saw his throat bob as he swallowed, his gaze still trained on where your thighs glistened with your need.  "I don't know," he admitted.  "If you asked me to go now…"

He tensed his jaw, and met your gaze.

"I don't know if I could stop," he informed you sternly.  "So don't ask me to, and we won't have to find out."

You shuddered and nodded; you wouldn’t ask him to stop, not when you needed him this badly.  Not when the idea of being alone, of being away from him, made your gut sink.

Still, your heart was racing— you wondered if he could hear it, too, since it was deafening inside your own head— as he reached for you, that intimidating cock still curling up from his opened jeans.

He gripped it with one hand, petting your thigh with the other, guiding himself right up against you; your quivering cunt flexed against itself, another wave of slick leaking down to the floor under you— coating him, before he was even inside.

“Trust me,” he breathed, “trust me— please, let me do this.  Tell me I can fuck you.”

“Y-you can fuck me, Alpha, please,” you whined.

Holding on tight to your hip, he pushed his thick head inside; you were crooning and gasping already, trying to push down for more even though it was already almost too much, but his strong grip kept you still and perfectly helpless.

“More,” you begged under your breath, “god, please?  Wan’ everything, need all of you— Alpha, my Alpha…”

His tongue and lips were all over your neck, hair tickling your chest and face.  “So good, omega, you’re doing s’good, just stay still.”

It didn’t hurt until he was halfway in, and you whined loudly as you grabbed at his thigh under your own, hoping to slow him down.  He was breathing just as hard as you, hot air spreading over your skin that was wet with his spit now, sensitive from the assault of his lips and teeth.

He didn’t warn you that he was going to give you the rest, he just pushed it in all at once and groaned as you choked out your sob.

"Fuck," he said with a gasp, "I— ah, god— I didn't know it would be like this…"

And neither did you, you didn't know how quickly your pain would fade and your body would give in to him.  He was right, it didn't hurt much… there was a sting, yes, and a stretch, but it was good pain.  It was pain you were made to take, like he said.

"Are you okay?" he asked breathlessly.  You could only nod; words had abandoned you.  Well, except one.

"Alpha," you moaned, and you heard him growl beside your neck.

"I'm here, omega," he promised.  "I'm gonna give you what you need… you're gonna be okay, you're safe."

You held on tighter to his shoulders, hiding your face in his neck, and he started to move.  The stretch was so intense that your legs were shaking with every movement, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything, you wouldn’t give up this friction inside you for the world right now— it was a salve for the pain that had been clawing you open from the inside out, but just as intense as the pain had been, now you had this hunger instead.  This… need.

“Feels so good,” you heard him whisper against your ear, “fuck, omega, you feel so good inside, you were made for me.  You were made for this, I know— I know you’re mine.”

You nodded quickly, biting your lip.  As he held you close and moved inside you, time moved differently— slower, but all at once, like you were stuck in a dream.

Everything else faded away— the fear that someone would walk in, the awareness of where you were and how this happened, anxiety and confusion and pain— and you were just drowning in every sensation: his tongue laving at your neck, his fingers holding your waist tightly, his cock inside you and stretching you.  He didn’t say much at first, he didn’t need to, but when you shuddered and another wave of slick leaked out around him, you felt him smirk.  “So wet,” he praised, “so good for your Alpha.  Do it again.”

You were almost self-conscious about how wet you were, maybe you would've been if it wasn't for Eddie being enraptured by it— he was looking down at where your bodies were joined, amazed as he watched you soak his cock over and over with more of your arousal.  You could hear it, the filthy wet sounds somewhat distant and fuzzy in your ringing ears, and your face was hot— your whole head was feverish, really, and your eyes were teary just from how overwhelmingly wonderful it felt.

"Fuck," you heard him grunt under his breath, "it's so— god, how do you feel?  Are you okay?"

You opened your mouth to try to tell him that it was perfect, he was perfect, but only a pathetic moan came out; you nodded quickly instead.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered.  "You look beautiful like this— so pretty for me."

A pained whine jumped out through your teeth— even though you felt good, his words brought back some of that ache from before, and your back arched up off the floor dramatically.

You were about to relax a bit and lay flat again, until you felt his hand move up your thigh, over your mound where his palm rested while his thumb brushed over your clit.  Your body jolted; you were confident you'd never been that sensitive there before.

"Alpha!" you whimpered.

"Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "you need to come— it's gonna help you.  You trust me, right?  Let me help you."

But the feeling inside you was already pushing you to your limits— his cock was already so deep that it felt like it was going to hit the back of your brain or something.  

He rubbed your clit as fast as he could, holding your hips steady with his other hand so you couldn't try to buck away from his touch.  You convulsed and moaned, holding onto him with all your fading strength.

“Alpha, Alpha, please!” you sobbed.  “It’s— too much!”

“No, you can take it,” he promised roughly under his breath.  “Just come for me, let go, little omega— please, let go for your Alpha, this is what you need.  You need to come for me— come, right now.”

Shivering and crying loudly, your body went limp— except for inside, where you were pulsing uncontrollably, bearing down on his thick length.  It was so intense, it almost hurt, and yet it was your favorite pain you ever felt.

You hadn’t noticed that your hands were grabbing his arm until they let go, leaving just a bit of moisture on his sleeve from the clamminess.  “Did you…?” he began to ask.  “I mean, is it better now?  It hurts less?”

You tried to process his questions, but you were still coming down from it, still catching your breath.  “It’s… it’s a little better.”

“You need more?” he asked, and fuck, it was a totally genuine question, but the way he said it…

Nodding, you pulled him down on top of you and buried your face in his neck.  “Just don’t stop,” you pleaded, “Alpha— don’t stop, m’gonna be good for you…”

It was impossible to define what compelled you to say that, but it didn’t really matter.  Your first orgasm had numbed your body and mind enough to let you just submit to your instincts, to trust not only your Alpha, but your own body and its ability to do what it was made to do.  It felt better, when you stopped worrying and accepted your place.

And no, despite what some sexists might say, your place was not beneath.  Your place was not serving, pleasing, obeying.  Your place was simply in his arms.  Your place was with your Alpha.

“I— fuck, I don’t know how much longer I can last,” he admitted lowly.  “You just… you feel so good, omega, you’re my omega, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Alpha,” you promised.

“Loved feeling you come on me,” he grunted through his teeth, “can you do it again?  If I tell you to?”

“I’ll do— I’ll do a-anything you tell me to,” you stuttered as you tried to swallow past the dryness in your throat from panting so hard.

“Then come,” he demanded again, renewing the movements of his thumb on your clit— but honestly, you didn’t even need it.  Just his voice, just an Alpha’s voice ordering you (as well as the overly-sensitive feeling your last orgasm had left behind) was enough to send you over the edge in just a few moments.  He praised you all the way through it, every kind word like another shock of ecstasy through your body.  “So good,” he said again, rough and deep as he rested his head on your shoulder, “so good for me, omega— feels so good when I make you come.”

You smiled through your exhaustion because it felt so good to make him feel good— to know you were pleasing him.  

"You know what's gonna happen, don't you?" he whispered.  "I'm gonna… knot you."

"Fuck, please," you choked.

"It might hurt a little," he warned, "but it's gonna— fuck, s'gonna be so good, if you just trust me."

"I trust you, Alpha," you promised.  "Want your knot, please…"

“Beautiful,” he grunted as he fucked you harder and faster, “my beautiful omega— mine.”

You whined through your teeth, clutching his shoulders tighter.  “Alpha!”

“Whose omega are you?”

“Y-yours,” you choked, “yours, Alpha, Alpha…”

“Tell me again,” he demanded.

“I’m yours!  Yours, Eddie—”

He cut you off with a rough kiss right away; you didn’t even question it.  You felt him coming inside you and your mind went blank, your body went crazy, your senses went haywire.  He was coming inside you, and nothing had ever felt so good.  You sobbed with joy, holding onto him tighter as you felt the base of his cock swelling— you already thought you were at your limits, and yet his knot kept growing inside you and you just kept taking it.

“Alpha,” you whispered with the last of your breath.

He couldn't move as much with the knot growing, keeping him buried inside you, but he still ever-so-slightly rocked your body, grinding his hips against yours.

You fell back onto his jacket on the floor with a sigh, panting so hard you thought your chest might not fit all the air you were gasping for.  Finally you felt almost like yourself again, almost lucid, though still sort of numb all over; which, considering the incredible fullness inside you, was a good thing.

You tried to adjust your hips, wincing as it disturbed the delicate balance within you.  Your bodies were interlocked now, and your returning logical mind remembered that this part might last for a while— that was the whole point, evolutionarily speaking.

“Fuck,” Eddie grunted, finally stilling completely and propping himself up on his arms above you.  You watched him catch his breath, admiring the shape of his jaw, the way his lashes looked extra long when his eyes were shut and they fell over his cheeks; you reached up and brushed some hair away from his face, and that seemed to get his attention.  “I-I’m sorry,” he blurted out.

“What?  Eddie, no— thank you, thank you so much,” you sighed, “the pain’s gone.”

“For now,” he warned.  “It’ll come back— if it’s anything like mine was.  You’ll need more… a lot more.”

You worried, for a moment, that he was telling you that you needed more than he could give.  You couldn’t imagine anyone or anything else helping you now— you needed him, that much was clear.  You grabbed a handful of his shirt, and he looked down at that hand on him before he looked at your face again.

“I’ll take you home,” he said.

“Like this?” you panted.   “What am I gonna tell my parents?”

“N-no, my home,” he corrected, and you were surprised, yet somehow you soothed at the same time.  “I-it’s not much, just a trailer, but you can nest there and I can… I can take care of you.”

Your heart was singing; you’d never been cared for before.  You never wanted to admit that you needed it.

~

You were sort of on autopilot; you’d been gathering random linens and clothes of Eddie’s and piling them on the corner of the bed.  You couldn’t say exactly… why, but Eddie explained it was natural.  At least when you were doing this, you weren’t so needy that he had to stay and hold you— he could actually go out and get some provisions for the both of you.  

He told you that this whole thing could take up to a week, but you could stay here and Wayne was going to find somewhere to crash until you were done; he told you it was going to get worse before it got better, and come and go in waves.  Most importantly, he told you that he would do whatever he could to help you.

You could hardly believe he was a near-total stranger to you this morning.  There was still an awkwardness there, especially on his part, but you felt this impossible connection with him now— you felt so safe with him, in fact you never felt safe without him.  Which was why you smiled with excitement the moment you heard his van pull up outside.

By the time he was at the door, you were already opening it for him.  “Hi,” you beamed.

“Hey,” he smiled back, a bit more hesitant.

You reached for the grocery bags.  “L-lemme help you with those—”

“Nooo way,” he denied as he lifted them over your head while he stepped past you, “let the big strong Alpha do it, sweetheart.”

The door swung shut and you thought you could swoon.  Sweetheart.  This kind of shit would’ve made you roll your eyes yesterday.  Now you were such a sucker for it, and he was just being friendly.

“Plenty of food for the next few days,” he explained as he sorted the contents of his bag into either the pantry or fridge.  “Nothing, you know, fancy, but… it’ll keep your energy up.  And mine.”

You watched him, clutching your hands together in front of you, though you weren’t sure what exactly you were waiting on.  You just liked watching him, really.

“Oh!  I got some ice packs too,” he remembered.  “You might get really hot, o-or crampy, so those can help a lot.”

“Okay,” you nodded, smiling.  He shut the pantry door that he’d been leaning behind and looked over at you.  After a quick moment, he stepped up in front of you, and you tilted your head back to look up at him; he smiled, and reached up to hold your face in his hand.

Looking straight forward, you were right at eye-level with his Hellfire Club shirt.  You reached to where it ended, just beside his black faux-leather belt, and you started to lift it up off of him.  Smirking a bit, he helped you take it off of him— you immediately held the ball of fabric up to your face, inhaling his scent.  You hardly even noticed his toned chest dotted with hair and tattoos, you were too busy realizing you’d just found the perfect final piece for your nest.

You ran to the bedroom and pounced onto the bed, stuffing the shirt in with the other clothes and things, smiling contentedly as you buried yourself in them.  A long, deep inhale filled your lungs with the smell of Alpha, and it made everything feel alright.

You felt the bed dip as Eddie climbed onto the mattress with you, and you poked your head out from your little cave.  “Doin’ alright in there?” he asked, and you bit your lip as you nodded.  “I’ll just leave you be until you need—”

“No,” you interjected quickly, grabbing his guitar pick necklace and tugging him closer.  “No, stay here… you were just gone for so long…”

“Yeah, we needed food,” he reminded you.

“But I didn’t like you being gone,” you breathed.

“I thought you were okay with it!  You said I could go,” he remembered.

“Y-yeah, but then, you know…” you trailed off.  Your eyes wandered over his bare torso, over his arms and shoulders…

When you looked at his face again, he was smiling a little, and he reached up to push his hair out of his face.  “But then?” he prompted.

“I just missed you more than I thought I would,” you sighed.

“Yeah?” he hummed, scooting up on the bed to be even closer to you.  “I missed you more than I thought I would, too.  I probably still reek of you— and your slick.”

You whimpered.  “Do I smell like you?”

“You fucking better,” he said plainly, like it wasn’t so hot that your thighs quivered briefly.

He pulled you close to him, pressing your face against his chest; when you breathed in, you got a big whiff of his skin, of the heady scent of your Alpha.  It silenced every anxiety in your mind and body, and you realized you’d never felt this comfortable— this safe— in your life.  Something instinctive told you that you were going to be protected and loved; you felt whole.

You snuggled into his arms, nuzzling at his chest, and he sighed as he kissed your head.  “You’re cute,” he informed you quietly, and you smiled as you looked up at him.

“Really?” you hummed, and he nodded.  “You’re… big.”

He laughed.  “I’m still getting used to it,” he admitted.  “All of it.”

Your eyes drifted to his chest in front of you, and your fingers drew random shapes in his thin body hair— then moved to trace his tattoos.  “What’s it like?” you asked.  “Going through all this…”

"It's… honestly, it sucks," he laughed lightly.  "It's like puberty all over again."

"Fuck."

"But worse."

"God," you whined, letting your head fall onto his chest.  "Tell me I'm not gonna have to do this alone."

His hand reached up and pet your head.  "You're not gonna have to do this alone."

Your heart hurt as you imagined him doing this alone— of course, presenting is different for Alphas and omegas, they have ruts while you have heats, but it must be similar compared to everything else.

"Are we gonna… do we need to talk about it?" he asked.

"About what?"

"About how we woke up this morning as basically total strangers," he replied.  "About how I wasn't even sure if you knew my name.  And now we… now I…"

You nodded against him.  “It’s weird how right it feels.  Like, I know I should be questioning it.”  You tilted your head up to put your temple on his shoulder, so you could look at his face.  “I know it shouldn’t make any sense.  But it does.”

“Maybe it’s always like that,” he wondered.

“Maybe,” you offered.

He kissed your forehead.  “Or,” he breathed, “maybe it’s just that you really were always supposed to be mine.”

You didn’t reply to that with words, just a shiver and an arm slipping around his torso to hold onto him tighter.  As much as it was far too romantic for anything you were willing to believe, there was a growing mountain of evidence that implied he was right— that you were his from the start.  First of all, you presented early, and suddenly, when you were close to him for a while.

His gentle kisses moved in a path down your face, finding your neck and teasing you there carefully.  “Do you like being mine?” he asked softly.  You nodded as you held onto him tighter, moaning when he dragged his teeth over your skin.  “I’m so fuckin’ lucky, got this pretty omega all to myself.  Every Alpha’s dream— sweet little cunt in heat to breed.”

He rolled you onto your back and descended on you, pressing his body weight into you, and you spread your legs without even thinking about it.  

It wasn’t as bad as the first wave, but it still made you hot and needy, it still robbed you of logical thinking and turned you into a desperate, mewling little thing beneath him.  You were too caught up in the dreamy fog of it all to even be embarrassed, to care about begging for him so pathetically— he didn’t even have to make you beg, he never teased you, he gave you everything you wanted.  Still, you were a broken record: please, Alpha, fuck me— need you, Alpha, please, please—

“Knot me,” you begged, too, and he groaned as he held you tighter.  “Please, s’the only thing that makes the pain go away, please?  Alpha, give me your knot, wanna be full—”

“Shh,” he soothed, “I know, I know, baby… but maybe— fuck, maybe I should pull out this time.”

“No, please!” you sobbed.  “Feels so good when your knot’s inside me, Alpha.”

“You could… you can get pregnant,” he reminded you thinly, even though it was sort of obvious— that’s the point of all this, biologically.  “It’s not as likely your first heat, you’re still just presenting, but… you could.”

“I don’t care,” you breathed, “just please, Alpha, come in me again, please please—”

“Okay,” he promised with kisses all over your face, “it’s okay, I will, m’gonna help you.  Just need you to come one more time first.”

“Can’t,” you shook your head, but then again, you’d said that last time and he still made you do it.

“C’mon, omega, just wanna feel one more?  You can do it,” he cooed, “you can leak a little more slick with that pretty hole, I know you can, I know— it’s gonna hurt but it’s worth it, just one more…”

You were about to tell him you really couldn't do it, that three was your official limit, even though your heat-brain hated the idea of saying no to Alpha.

"Just one more," he pleaded, "for me, sweetheart?"

And before you knew it, you were nodding and bracing yourself, letting every sensation wash over you even though you might explode from being so overwhelmed.  You didn't explode in a literal sense, but you almost felt like you did— it hit you like a train and you sobbed out his name pathetically as you tried to take it all.

His knot swelled inside you a moment later, bringing the only real relief you got from this.  Eddie seemed to think that your orgasms were the key to staving off your heat-induced delirium, but it was his that soothed your body and mind the most.

Those moments you spent forced to be near him as you both waited for the swelling to go down enough for him to pull out… those were the moments you could think clearest, but your sanity was wasted on simply laying there letting him coo at you gently, praising you, kissing your face and neck.  Those were the moments you really remembered that this was Eddie Munson, that guy in health class, a relative stranger— and everything you needed.

"Oh, it’s all messed up,” you mumbled as you looked up at the pile of clothes you’d carefully arranged on the bed, seeing it had toppled over in the heat of the moment.  You tried to reach for it to fiddle with it, but Eddie laughed softly as he guided your face to look at him again.

“Welcome back,” he greeted, pecking the end of your nose with a kiss.  “The nest can wait— just talk to me for a minute, please?”

You smiled and kissed him back on the lips— just for a second, until he held your face tighter with both hands and kissed you harder and longer.  You hummed into it, feeling him smile against you, and he finally let go to nuzzle his face into your neck.  “Your hair is tickling me,” you complained as you tried to sputter enough to get one wayward wavy strand out of your mouth, but he shook his head just to make it even worse; you giggled and turned your face away, still getting pelted with hair as you laughed harder.  “Stop!” you whined, feeling his hands hold you at either side to keep you pinned under him.

He only stopped when he suddenly rolled onto his back, holding you tight and pulling you with him— you still couldn’t separate from each other, and so you were laying on his chest and straddling his hips with your weak legs.  “I can feel it when you laugh, you know,” he told you, still smiling.  “Inside.”

You shivered, holding him tighter.  Why was that so hot?�� You clenched, intentionally, to see if he’d react, and he hissed in a little breath.  “You can feel that?” you realized, and he nodded.

You did it again, and he hissed and gripped your hips.  “Don’t do that,” he warned, “unless you want me to fuck you again.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, he grinned back at you.  

“Okay, wait,” he breathed, “that was basically asking you to do it.  Just… wait until the knot goes down, okay?  I don’t recover as fast as you.”

You nodded, resting your chin on his chest and blinking up at him as he sighed and relaxed under you.  His hands stroked your back, mostly mindlessly, while you found yourself reaching up to play with his hair.  

“Are you still gonna want me around?” he asked suddenly, looking down at you again.  “When the heat’s over.”

You hesitated, opening your mouth and then shutting it again.

“I shouldn’t ask that now,” he sighed, shaking his head slightly as if frustrated with himself.  “You can’t know yet.  I guess what I’m trying to say is… if you just want this to be… this, that’s okay.  I can help you out and then we can go our separate ways.”

You swallowed thickly; he made it sound easy, but imagining it was impossible.  You couldn’t be separate from him, it would be excruciating.

“But, you know, if you wanna… go out sometime,” he stumbled over his words, “a-after this is all over, and we can leave the house again—”

“Are you asking me out?” you realized, eyes widening.

“Um,” he stalled, laughing slightly, “yeah.  Trying to, at least.”

“You’re literally inside me right now,” you reminded him, “and you’re hesitating to ask me to be your girlfriend.”

“Woah, woah,” he scoffed as he raised his hands, “I just said a date, let’s not rush things—”

You laughed and shoved his face away in punishment, but he held you by your wrists and sat up, keeping you perched in his lap as he kissed you— both of you still giggling a bit as you moved your lips together.

One week later…

"You understand why your case is so important to us," the doctor explained, smiling politely as he looked at you.  "Presenting at eighteen is rare enough, even for someone with a much higher likelihood of having ESD.  But with two beta parents… those odds make winning the lottery seem likely."

Eddie had already joked about buying some Powerball tickets, but you still weren't sure if this was all incredible luck or misfortune.  That said, you did feel better with his arm around your shoulders; he'd insisted on coming into the exam room with you, despite the exasperated nurse explaining you were meant to come in alone.  You were impressed she stood up to an Alpha for as long as she did, but she gave in eventually, and you were thankful for it.

"If you don't mind, we'd like to run some tests," the doctor continued.  "If we understand your unique case, we may understand the entire concept of dimorphism better.  Would you give your consent for our research?"

You were swinging your legs as they hung off the exam table, watching your bare feet brush against Eddie's shoes; the hospital gown wasn't enough to shield you from the coldness and sterility of the air, and you leaned harder into Eddie for warmth.  Looking up at the man in the white coat, you only hesitated a second before nodding.

"We'll need a few blood samples," the doctor enumerated as you sighed through another understanding nod, "and a cervical sample."

"Cervical?" Eddie repeated.

"Yes, from the cervix?  It's—"

"I know what the cervix is," Eddie frowned.  "How would this sample be collected?"

"Um, well, I would insert a brush up the—"

"Nope," Eddie interrupted firmly, "no, no way."

"I—" the doctor started.

"Nothing's going up anything, okay?  Nothing's going… in her."

"I understand that you're feeling protective at the moment," the doctor sighed.  "That's a normal hormonal reaction."

You blinked and stared down into your lap, where Eddie's hand was holding yours tightly, just under the plastic bracelet that had your information on it.  Name, birthday, patient ID number, and of course, sex.  You expected to see an F there, like you always had on any form or ID or paperwork.  You were still getting used to what you saw instead: O.

A normal hormonal reaction.  Does that mean it's not really real?  That it's a phase that passes, and you'll just be strangers again?

You squeezed Eddie's hand, feeling him squeeze yours back; it felt so real now, though.  You couldn't imagine life without this, even though that's exactly what your life had been until just a week ago.

"That said," the doctor continued, "she needs to make her own medical decisions.  If we feel that your presence is putting her under any duress, and therefore interfering with her right to informed consent and medical privacy, we will have you removed from the premises."

You almost wanted to see them try, three beta security guards versus one Alpha running on mating instincts.  But you shook your head and spoke up instead.  "It's alright," you interjected, "I— I don't want an internal exam, please.  But you can take as much blood as you need."

Even that seemed to frustrate Eddie, who huffed a little and gently squeezed your shoulder, but kept his mouth shut.  The doctor smiled.  "It won't be that much," he assured, "just a few vials.  And a cheek swab, if that doesn't count as internal."

“That’s fine,” you nodded.

When the doctor left to get the tools needed to draw your blood, you laid your head on Eddie's shoulder as he gently played with your hair.

"I don't think that guy likes me too much," Eddie whispered, making you smile and tilt your face into the crook of his neck.

"He's just trying to make sure you're not controlling me," you assured.

"But compared to your parents he's, like, my biggest fan," Eddie added, and you smacked him lightly on the chest as you laughed.

"Shut up," you mumbled, "they don't hate you… they're just trying to understand all this.  So am I, honestly."

One of his strong hands came up to hold your face, thumb petting your temple, as he kissed the top of your head.  Wayne had been the first to deliver the news to your parents, and you would never have enough money in your life to repay him for being the one to knock on their door and say hey, funny story, your daughter's an omega and she's currently getting her brains fucked out by my nephew, anyways see you in a week when she gets her logical reasoning back and also might be pregnant, toodaloo.

(You figured he found a better way to say it than that, but still, that was probably what they heard.)

It was a couple days before you were stable long enough to go over there yourself, Eddie close by your side the whole time, trying to explain it as best you could in a way they would understand.  They, too, had made Eddie leave to speak with you alone— even though it made you feel like you had to leave your heart in the other room— and asked you if somehow he was making you do this.  It seemed like no matter what you said, people had trouble believing that Eddie saved you, that you needed him now and that he needed you, too.

Not that you could really blame them, because it wasn't something you could put into words, either.  You just felt it.  It was basic, natural instinct.  It's like trying to explain why you eat multiple times a day or why you have to get up and walk to be able to cross the room.

You were snuggled up in Eddie's arms when a nurse came in, rolling a cart with the essentials for a blood draw on top.  You bit your lip when you saw four vials, knowing how those were going to get filled.

"Are you afraid of needles?" she asked.

"I… have a healthy respect for them," you replied, making her laugh a bit.

"That's fair," she nodded, grabbing your wrist and gently pulling your arm so she could wipe down the area she was going to prick.

You turned your face into his chest, closing your eyes, since you figured looking would only make it worse.

As she tied your arm and searched for the vein, Eddie held your head to his shoulder tightly, soothing you gently.  "It's okay," he whispered against your head, "you're okay…"

He winced almost as hard as you did when she finally did it, and you knew that this was hurting him, too.  You felt the same way when he accidentally cut his finger, or when he told you about some of the more difficult stories from his past; his pain was your pain.

"All done!" the nurse announced with a little too much chipperness as she untied the tight rubber from your arm and taped down a cotton ball to the small dot of a wound.

You exhaled slowly, and Eddie kissed your cheek.  "You did so good, sweetheart," he praised.

"That's sweet," the nurse cooed, sweetness quickly slipping into condescension.  "I guess you two are mates, huh?"

You wished you had the guts to blurt out the first snarky thing you thought of: No, he's my tax attorney.  Of course he's my mate, are you blind?

"Yeah," you offered shyly instead.

"How long have you been going out?" she asked, making conversation half-heartedly as she cleaned up the rolling cart and threw away what she didn't need.

"We haven't actually, uh, had a chance to go on a real date yet," Eddie interjected, making you wince and look down.  "Unless this counts— but I was thinking something a little more traditional for our first date than a drive to the hospital and a blood draw."

The nurse made a little face, like she was trying to be nice, not even looking at you.  "Well, that's… sweet… I'm surprised they let you back here together."

"Doctor Ali knew it was important to me," you explained quickly.

She nodded.  "You're young… everything feels important when you're that age."

"What does that mean?" Eddie snapped.

"Well, it's just that… you know, first love and all," she shrugged.

"You don't get it," Eddie laughed coldly.  "You're a beta, you could never understand.  It's different for us— we mate for life."

Your throat caught.  If that was true, it never came up in health class…

You waited until Eddie was driving you home to bring it up— but you’d been imagining asking about it ever since he said it.

"Do we really…?" you asked, looking down at your hands in your lap as you sat still in the passenger seat.  "Are we mates for life now?"

He swallowed, glancing down.  "We don't have to be.  It's not like every omega stays with the first Alpha they meet— actually, maybe most of them don’t.  But that’s how it used to be, back in the day— mates stayed together, always.”

That sounded nice; your heart beat a little faster just imagining it.

“I just…” he began, trailing off and starting over.  “I'm starting to wonder if it wasn't a coincidence.  Even if it seems pretty random— we didn't know each other at all, before— I think it happened for a reason."

You shivered, but nodded in agreement.  “I think so, too.”

"I think you're supposed to be mine."

You smiled, looking down into your lap shyly once again.  “I don’t know about supposed to, but… I know that I want to be.”

“Let me remind you, one more time,” he smirked, “that we barely know each other.”

But you knew everything that mattered about each other, and so you smiled to yourself.  “I don’t care,” you insisted.

You blinked quickly, looking at him and out the window, when you realized he was pulling the van over.  When you were parked on the side of the road, he leaned over the console and held your cheek in one hand as you looked up at him.  His face was determined, yet soft; his eyes were even bigger than you remembered.  “Do you wanna be my mate?  Really?”

“Eddie,” you sighed, “of course— can’t you tell?”

“No, I know,” he shook his head, “I just mean that if we do this— if we really do this, the whole mated pair thing— it’s just you and me, for the long haul.  Together.”

You reached up and put your own hand on top of his.  “That’s what I want.”

“And I should warn you now,” he added, “that if you let me… I’m gonna breed you.”

You shivered.  “I… I want that, too.”

He growled, quiet but enough for you to hear and gasp as it seemed to rattle through your body, as he pulled you into a kiss.  You whimpered into it, clutching at his jacket needily until he smiled at you.  “Sweetheart,” he whispered, and you shivered again.

“F-fuck, Eddie, can we…?  Now?” you asked.

“Here?” he smirked.  “In the van?”

You glanced at the back for just a split second, but he noticed, and laughed lowly in that way that made your thighs clench together.  

“You wanna get in the back?” he noticed, and you nodded, looking at him again with half-lidded eyes.  “I really don’t deserve you— it’s not fair, you know, me having the sweetest omega in the world all to myself.”

“Just take me,” you pleaded, sick of the teasing, desperate for him to make good on that promise to breed you— logic be damned.  “Alpha…”

“Shh,” he soothed, kissing your neck instead as you melted into his arms, “m’right here, sweetheart.”

#alpha!eddie munson x omega!reader #alpha!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson a/b/o #stranger things a/b/o #stranger things omegaverse

[yuurei20]

Idk if you've talked about it before, but have you seen the voice lines for Crowley's card? At the end people were saying he implies HE'S the one who brought the MC to Twisted Wonderland👀

Hello hello!! Thank you for this question! ^^

I am not sure that that is how I would interpret his line!

The original Japanese is 「貴方みたいな勤勉で優秀な生徒がいてくれて助かっています。これからも問題児を“監督”してくださいね」

The form of the verb "help" makes this difficult to put into English...literally translated it may be something close to, "It's proving helpful to have diligent, excellent students like you available. Please do continue to ‘supervise’ the troublemakers."?

A vaguer translation might be "It helps to have diligent, excellent students like you," and I can see how that could be interpreted into the implication that he arranged for students like the prefect to be on hand for assistance.

But given the form of "help," I don't think there is that much depth to read into! :> There is nothing to insinuate that he is glad he brought the prefect here, or that he was involved in their being here at all.

Of course there is a lot that is still unknown about Crowley, and the theory that he intentionally brought the prefect over to make something happen (or to keep something from happening 👀) is a popular one (and very fun to think about!).

But if I were attempting to champion that theory, I personally would not use this particular line as proof! It could, of course, be setting a foundation so that a future reveal does not blindside the players 👀 But the line by itself is vague, which is probably by design!

And there were two more Crowley lines that I found interesting!

「私の全力を知りたい？随分と怖いもの知らずですねえ……学園長として心配になってしまいます」

"You want to know my full power? You are quite audacious…as headmage, it is worrying."

Crowley is not the first character to comment on the audaciousness/fearlessness of the prefect: Malleus has a very similar line but their phrasing is different, with Crowley saying 怖いもの知らず, while Malleus says 恐れを知らない. Malleus repeats this same phrasing at least twice in the original game, though it it written in two different ways on EN.

Both Crowley and Malleus' phrasings are two ways of saying something that could be localized as the same thing in English, but subtle turns of phrase are proving to be very important in the original game.

For example, when you set Crowley to the homescreen he will say, "私をお呼びですか？"

And this is an interesting parallel to Malleus', "僕を呼んだ?"

Malleus’ phrase tends to be rewritten as various different expressions on EN such as “You called?,” “Was it you who called me?” and “Did you need something?”

But in the original game he always uses the exact same phrase, which is different from Crowley’s “私をお呼びですか？” while meaning the same thing.

While it would normally not be an issue for a localizer to take something that seems repetitive in one language and give it more flair in the other, it seems that this repetition was intentional and maybe should have been kept consistent to the original game?

Especially because English does not have things like different words for "I" like Japanese does (Crowley uses "watashi" while Malleus uses "boku") to help tell one person's phrasing apart from another's.

EN experienced a similarly unfortunate problem with Idia’s, “Leave it to your big bro,” with the phrase getting rewritten into "I'll get you trilling like a canary" and "I got this!" on EN, presumably before Aniplex USA realized that it was being repeated word-for-word for a reason.

Is it possible that the information that Aniplex USA receives in advance is limited, so they just do not know which of these phrases are safe to change and which need to be kept accurate to the original game?

With all the variations to Malleus' "You called for me?" on EN, Crowley has the potential to be localized with a phrase that is identical to at least one of Malleus' multiple English-language interpretations. In the original game, however, Malleus' phrasing is consistent, and completely different from the phrasing used by Crowley, while meaning the same thing! (and the "same but different" pattern has the potential to be very significant 👀)

#twstask #twisted wonderland

[drtyfiction]

IMAGINE [2/2]

Oliver Quick x Y/N (she/her) Saltburn spoiler alert!!

[Part 01]

- You know, Oliver, I thought you were cleverer than that. Y/N invited me because she wanted to. They want me back, after all. She wants me back in Saltburn.

- And why would she want that?

Oliver's gaze shifts from frustration to a hint of anger. Restrained, inexpressive, repressed, but still anger. His rage can't really be perceived by his facial expressions, but it subtly leaks from deep within his eyes all the way to where Farleigh's sight can reach. Oliver stares at him with a slightly frightening fervor.

Despite still not knowing it, Farleigh should, indeed, be afraid.

- I don't know, I think she misses me. No, actually, I'm sure she misses me terribly. I will eventually call her mine, you see, Oliver. She puts on a certain act and tells me she's not really interested, but later, when I leave, she calls me back, as if nothing had ever happened. I'm sure she desires me as much as I've been craving her. They want me. Oh no, even better. They need me, Oliver. She has always needed me. - Farleigh gradually approached Oliver, facing him closely, until each could smell the alcohol coming off the other's breath. Farleigh also sensed that Oliver was wearing an expensive brand of perfume, probably one that belonged to Felix. - I'm part of this house, I always have been, just like her. You're here on vacation, just for a short visit. I'm permanent in Y/N's life and I'm a resident of Saltburn. This is just a short fling you're enjoying, but it will soon end. You'll dwell on it for the rest of your life, and you'll hold on to this moment for years to come. You'll tell your children about what you lived here. But you'll never, ever have any of it back, including her. I am the one who will always go back into her arms.

On that very moment, Oliver feels a bitter taste settle on his lips, surging like an exhilarating reflux from his stomach. He wishes he could have a drink to mask the stinging taste that instantly assaults his senses. However, he can't, as his cup remains empty. He looks again at the plastic bottom, then at Farleigh, and he can no longer hide the disgust that emerges on his face. He is no longer feeling anger towards him and all his self-centeredness, but rather disgust. A disgust that crawls up his gut and which he can no longer suppress. His face twitches and his upper lip rises, and Farleigh appears surprised to see, albeit briefly, a trace of real feeling spilling out of Oliver.

How dare Farleigh assume that you want him? Or even worse, how dare he think that you need him? Oliver knows that nothing Farleigh has just said is true, but he can't stop himself from being disgusted by all that he's heard. You've always been, in every way, above all the drama. Oliver is absolutely convinced that you wouldn't have invited Farleigh to the party and he was even more certain that you had never slept with him. He has spent so much time studying your personality and behavior that he knows with great confidence that you are an emotionally independent and collected person who would not submit to Farleigh's whims, no matter how persuasive he tries to be.

Now they're so close to each other that their faces are nearly touching. Oliver tries to turn around to peer at the house, but Farleigh grabs his face with both hands, forcing him to look deep into his brown eyes.

- Catch a train to someplace far away from here. This is not my dream, Oliver. It's my home. So no matter what happens, I always come back.

Farleigh releases him, and Oliver realizes that this was the last straw. He needs to take definitive action. As Farleigh walks away, Oliver mutters between his teeth:

- We’ll see.

There is nothing, or no one, that stands in the way between Oliver and his subject of desire. Everybody should know that. What he hid from everyone is that Oliver's greatest desire is you. He was advancing gradually, building up space and gaining on the territory so that, in the end, he would have you. However, because of what Farleigh has just said, Oliver realizes that he will need to revise his entire plan and take more intense, aggressive action. If he doesn't intervene, things will soon get out of hand, and he cannot possibly imagine losing you to anyone, especially when that someone is Farleigh.

#fanfic #scenarios #imagine #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #oliver quick x reader #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick #saltburn spoilers #saltburn #saltburn movie #farleigh saltburn #saltburn 2023 #archie madekwe #barry keoghan fanart #barry keoghan #barry keoghan x reader #barry keoghan imagine

[cowboyfromh3ll]

I saw u say i do hcs so i thought i should ask for some hcs 'cause ur one shots r great so ur hcs will obviously be too. Anyways, can we get hcs about Javier having a crush on a girl who's nice and reserved, a bit shy too. Like, what he'd do to impress her? How will he talk to her? It's more fluff but u can add some nsfw because ur style in writing is just *chef's kiss*

HC for Javier crushing on a shy and reserved fem!reader (smut)

warnings: smut, some humiliation

Javier is absolutely smitten

Many people think he's some smooth talking romantic, but we saw the way he was acting around those two women at the bar in Valentine

The way he acts around women he wants is quite frivolous 

At first he think your shyness means you don’t want to talk to him or straight up don’t want anyone's company, and he’s very discouraged by it

Sometimes he’ll see you walking past and say “Why don’t you talk to me more often?” to which you laugh awkwardly to

Cries himself to sleep that night

Will very hesitantly try and talk you or ask for your opinion on things to strike conversation

When you ask what’s up he would have realized he didn’t think his bluff through so makes something up

Ends up asking what you think of his outfit

To which you say you think it's lovely and call him stylish

The compliment makes his year

He trips over his words and becomes excited, grasping at anything to get your attention and keep it

His excitement can be described as juvenile, as he finds any excuse to try and be around you

Will learn how to sew simply so he can sit there with you while you do your chores 

And so Miss Grimshaw doesn’t yell at him for distracting you while working, he’s working too he would argue

Notices you come round the campfire when he’s playing or singing, so he starts doing it almost every night

Sometimes he’ll sing love songs for you indirectly, even if people are around and nobody knows it’s meant for you, Javier will mean it in his head

Will ask you for song requests personally 

He’s pretty awkward at first when it comes to crushes but once he advances in them he’ll get more confident

For a while he sorta just stood around you and asked you mundane little questions, followed you around like a lost puppy

Your shyness would keep you from giving more fleshed out answers, but your brief responses would not discourage him

But once the two of you started talking more he makes sure he’s the one you talk to the most

Definitely the type of guy who keeps your attention by making you laugh. Anytime you two are together it's all giggles from you and it's SO obvious to anyone around you guys that y’all are flirting

Definitely the jealous type as well

If he sees you talking to another guy his anger will probably cause him to be more bold with you

Eventually starts dedicating songs to you

Once he starts getting real bold he’ll say more flirty stuff

“Can I stay in your tent with you tonight? It’s a bit cold.” 

Once you start dating he INSISTS you don’t lift a finger and will do your chores for you

His previously learned sewing skill comes in real handy

NSFW

Think your shyness is so so cute and sexy

Despite his own initial nerves, he tries to be audacious for the both of you during sex

Will lead many of your sessions together

Always starts nice and slow and takes things at your pace

Unwraps you like a present but very carefully as though your skin is made of paper and he might actually tear you

His nerves shine through as he undresses you with shaky hands

Will constantly ask you questions and cup your face so you can speak to him while looking him in the eyes

His confidence increases the longer you are together and become comfortable with one another

This man can fuck rough, starkly contrasts your own shy personality

Has so much stamina, but will slow it down if you ask

Loves making you blush by talking dirty, will whisper absolute filth in your ear if it means just getting you to blush

Will nip at your earlobe while whispering to you, sees just how wet he can get you from his words alone

Praises you so much during sex “My perfect girl, you’re doing so good.” “Yes, just like that preciosa, you’re so good at this.”

Loves the way the praise makes you blush just as much as his dirty talk

Is so lewd when you two are going at it, always encourages you to be just as bold

Enjoys your quiet personality in front of others just to see how loud he can make you scream in private

Puts you in embarrassing positions just to see how flustered you get 

Sometimes he'll secretly grope you in public to see the way you squeak

Absolutely tease, gets so much enjoyment from watching the way you squirm because of how shy you are 

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2 x reader #red dead redemption community #van der linde gang x reader #writing #red dead fanfiction #javier escuella rdr2 #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #javier escuella fluff #javier Escuella smut #javier Escuella smut hc #javier Escuella x reader smut #javier Escuella x reader fluff

[shankschewtoy]

Hiii! I hope you're doing great! can I request Sabo, Law, Shanks reacting to their s/o somehow slept on the bath? They thought they were taking to long and got in (Knocking and then walking in) and saw them sleeping and slowly sinking? Take your time! And an advance thanks!

a/n - you don’t know how obsessed I am with this idea anon oh my god- 😭 tysm for this request!! You have been the source of my inspiration!! So thank you for that! 💜

warnings ⚠️ - fem reader, suggestive kinda? Not rlly 😭

- taking a bath with Sabo is literally heaven 😭

- the way he gently scrubs your back leaves you with literally flawless skin

- he washes your hair too, and treats you like the literal queen you are ✨

- so tonight, you decided to ask him to take a bath with him after he finished up his paperwork for the day

- You drew the bath, putting in a lavender scent to set the mood just right, and you stepped into the comfortingly warm water

- it was just the right temperature, perfect

- tonight, his paperwork was taking a lot longer than usual, and you had been sitting in there for around 15 minutes

- the steam that was clogging the room was almost suffocating, why were you so dizzy??

- everything was so- blurry..

- before you knew it, the back of your head hit the edge of the tub as you slowly started sinking into the water

- your cheeks were flushed, breathing labored, your skin glossy and pale, your eyelids glazed

- Sabo ran towards the bathroom, realizing the time that nearly flew by for him

- he knocked on the bathroom door, quickly stripping off his clothes as he opened it to find you steaming, sinking into the water

- panic mode

- “Y/N?! OH MY GOD!”

- he rushed so fast that he tripped on the carpet, his naked ass laying flat on the cold tile as he ran towards you

- he lifted you out of the bath, checking your chest when he realized he had been literally fondling your breasts the entire time

- internally: “WHY ARE THEY SO FUCKING SOFT?!”

- he stopped himself, trying to gently wake you up, taking you out of the room and laying you in front of the fan to cool you off

- his heart was racing, you could hear it from a mile away

- his poor innocent soul was freaking out over how he accidentally “touched you” without your permission and holy shit he was about to go kill himself for it

- your eyes slowly opened and he felt his heart immediately calm down as he squeezed your hand gently with a smile

- “What took you so long Sabo?…”

- he laughed and gave you a hug, his warm body embracing you as he sighed with relief, smelling the lavender which made him even more intoxicated

- “Sorry… I had a lot more work..”

- “I don’t think we should take a bath now-“ -Sabo

- “yeah no shit sherlock.” -you

- "Babe, you're killing all of our noses. Poor benn's gonna go and suffocate because you haven't taken a shower."

- "He's overreacting!''

- "No I'm not." - benn

- When you suggested you would take a bath with him, his face literally lit up with excitement

- he was like a little dog who was about to go on the best walk of his life

- you went to go get the water ready, using some of his favorite shampoo and soap to spoil your red-haired boyfriend

- you stepped into the warm water, and the temperature was just right

- Unknown to you, shanks had already fallen asleep again on the bed, snoring away peacefully with a half-empty alcohol bottle in hand

- minutes passed, soon it had been 15 since you'd gotten into the water, and you were already starting to feel a bit light-headed

- the steam that blurred your vision wasn't helping at all, your cheeks were pink, your eyes glassy as they closed

- you slowly started sinking into the warm water, and oh god, if shanks didn't wake up soon, you probably would make the bathtub your early grave

- the bottle slipped out of his hands, the shattering of the glass waking him up as he sat up almost immediately

- He saw the light from the bathroom and he called out your name a couple times before walking towards the bathroom, taking off his shirt

- "Sorry- I fell asl- Y/N?! OH GOD!"

- cue his internal monologue about how stupid he was for falling asleep

- He literally started slipping on the floor as he lifted your body up with his arm, carrying you out of the bath and starting to try and wake you up

- He was literally about to have a heart attack at 39- lmao

- When you started coughing, you don't even know how relieved he was, he could feel his heart start to beat normally again

- "Dummy- why were you just sinking?!" -him

- "What do you mean?! You're the one who took forever!"

- "I- ok- fine- sorry.."

- "And you still smell like absolute shit." - you (pls he smells literally so bad- like alcohol and weird old fish)

a/n - omg this idea as literal perfection anon-

#shanks x reader #shanks #one piece x reader #akagami no shanks #shanks x y/n #red haired shanks #shanks one piece #sabo headcanons #sabo x reader #sabo x y/n #sabo x you #shanks x you #sabo one piece #sabo the revolutionary #one piece sabo #op sabo #revolutionary sabo #red hair shanks #op shanks #one piece headcanons #op headcanons