#Halloween town band

[selenadrawsstuff]

I drew James, the sax player from The Nightmare Before Christmas in The Halloween Town Band!

[tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons]

In the first few minutes the saxophone guy calls Jack 'bone daddy' I was wondering if you have any ideas, headcanons or fanfic recs related to or about that? I couldn't find anything, but I thought it was really funny.

Well, ‘Bone Daddy’ became a bit of a cultural phenomenon for awhile. To the point where people seem to forget it was directly said in The Nightmare Before Christmas. (And it was some Disney marketing thing..? Or something?)

I have James (The Saxophone Player) teasingly calling Jack ‘Bone Daddy’ in my fanfiction a few times..! I like to think it’s the Band’s official nickname for him, since they’re close friends and it’s hinted he previously opened up to them before. ‘Daddy’ in the sense of old jazz musician slang, and ‘Bone’ because he’s, well, a skeleton. :P

[rainbows-fanfics]

Our Nightmare (Chapter 22) ENDING

Summary: Sally moves in with the man of her screams. But there  is still so much she has to learn of Halloween Town, and what it’s like  living with The Pumpkin King.

A sequel to Two Dearest Friends,  where the Christmas incident never happens. But there are still many  ends that haven’t been met, and much for these two dreamers to learn as  they start to spend their deaths together.

Pairings: Jack Skellington/Sally, Dr Finklestein/Jewel

–

Note: This is a SEQUEL to my other story, TWO DEAREST FRIENDS. To read the original story, go here.

--

Sally's wedding dress is based on one of my favorite pieces on deviantART, 

Jack's suit is the Dancing Jack outfit from Oogie's revenge - which you can see here.

--

The large bell housed prominently over the Town Hall rings loudly across Halloween Town. The deafening, flat notes are heard from miles away. Its noise is recognized as an announcement to something urgent . In this case, a  wedding – but not any ordinary ceremony. Rather, a royal one, as the Pumpkin King is now integrating himself with a woman, who, after the matrimony, can call herself the new Pumpkin Queen.

It’s been ages since a royal wedding has been recorded in the town’s history. It explains the urgency of the citizens, who are desperate to participate in this rare occurrence. A good portion of the town attends, having a connection to either their king and his fiancée. They receive a generous RSVP line, filling the town square with seats and tables to accommodate the large crowd that will be attending.

As the center of Halloween Town begins to crowd with the attendees, the  husband-and-wife-to-be slips out from the commotion unnoticed. It’s a graceful feat thanks to the skeleton’s gift of creeping. They are now strolling through the Outskirts, hand happily in one another’s. Human ceremonies take superstitions seriously, but Halloween Town  adores  bad luck. Jack and Sally are striving to get the worst possible, to ensure things roll smoothly.

“It’s beautiful outside,” The ragdoll comments, holding the ends of her dress to walk on the stone path. He follows her gaze and notices the storm clouds hanging overhead, threatening to unleash rain any second now. He’s felt the static on his spine all day. Nothing can make him more content than the ideal weather.

“It truly is,” He agrees.

“I’m glad we didn’t cancel the ceremony. I love the rain.”

He holds his palm out and waits to feel the drip of the raindrops coming down. “It should only be a light shower, thankfully..!”

An excited look grows on her face. She notices the distance they’ve made from the town and her smile slightly falters. She wants to remain like this for hours - alone with him, enjoying the peaceful sights before something so… nerve-wracking .

She’s prepared for this day for a long time, planning everything with her fiancé and practicing how the ceremony will go. She’s read a lot about what to expect from weddings. Although she’s book-ready, she doesn’t anticipate feeling such a strong swelling in her leaves. It’s an overwhelming but delightful feeling - being with Jack makes the nervousness temporarily go away. But they’ll have to face the attention sooner or later.

“We can start heading back, now.”

He agrees. He swerves them into the opposite direction in a movement so smooth that has her giggling. They slip in the same way they snuck out. They part from each other to start welcoming the guests and directing them as needed, exchanging delighted grins every time the other passes their vision.

——————————

An hour or so passes while everyone settles themselves at the tables, with the help of Lock and Barrel. The Halloween Town band plays music and sings songs to keep everyone patient while they sip their drinks and watch children run around playing. They’re eager to witness the marriage between their King and the future-Queen already. The Mayor frequently reminds them that they need to be patient. They’re setting up small canopies around, in hopes of keeping everyone dry in case the rain decides to fall earlier than expected.

It isn’t long before the Mayor urges everyone to their seats, claiming things will begin. Everyone quickly comes to the chairs and snatch as many spots close to the front as possible. It isn’t long before the rows are filled. The King is friends with practically everybody and the ragdoll shares acquaintances, so there’s no need for any parties on either side. They sit wherever they please. The ghosts and winged creatures hover in the back while everyone faces the direction of the altar intently.

The Mayor is respectively chosen as the marriage officiant and minister, and is more than happy to fulfill the roles. Jack’s best man is no other than his old friend, Doctor Finklestein, who plans to walk Sally down the aisle. The only ones standing there are him, the Mayor, and Zero. The dog poses as a ring bearer and is patiently holding the rings for them on a small, white pillow. His spiral tail wags in anticipation as he looks at his master.

Everyone’s attention is on their King. Unlike his usual black-and-white pinstriped suit and bat bow tie, Jack is wearing a white suit. It’s similar to his normal attire, except this one consists purely of whites and grays and has a toned-down version of his bat for a bow tie, as well as shirt cuffs at the ends of his sleeves. He sports a white top hat to finish the outfit, which hangs lazily on the side of his skull. He keeps nudging at it trying to keep it in place, but the thing insists on being crooked. Sally spent careful time making this ensemble for him - so he’s doing his best to keep it tidy.

“Nervous?” The Mayor whispers, leaning over the podium and grinning. He’s getting a kick out of seeing him like this.

“As I’ll ever be.” Comes the rushed reply. “I’m not sweating too much, am I?”

“Jack, you can’t sweat.”

“Right, right…”

At that moment, music fills the Town square. The skeleton stiffens as everyone perks their heads up. They turn and find Sally standing at the end of the carpet, with her bouquet in her hands and veil carefully placed over her stitched face. Beside her is Dr. Finklestein, who clutches at her other hand and resists the tempting urge to scratch at his brain. He’s changed from his usual lab coat and is now wearing a white suit, much less elegant than Jack’s. Judging by his loosened posture and unfixed glasses, the skeleton can tell that he’s affected by holding his daughter’s hand at her wedding. He sniffles subtly as he wipes a tear from under his dark lenses, moving the two of them forward slowly.

Even though Jack has seen Sally in her wedding dress before, he still feels the breath leave his throat as he ravishes the sight of her. Her dress is entirely made by hand, starting from the ends to the top. The pieces are made and put together by her, including different pieces of rags with various patterns. They are combined to create a large and beautiful dress. A wilted flower is placed just behind her ear, complimenting her black eyes. A green ribbon wraps around her thin waist, consisting of dead flowers. Behind her is a long train that matches the transparency of her veil. It’s nearly reminiscent of the patchwork dress he first met her in.

Shock emerges from behind and steps forward. She scatters the dead petals across the aisle, messily but  still getting the job done, nonetheless.. Sally follows slowly, as the Doctor is careful not to get his wheelchair caught in anything. Behind them are Lock and Barrel, who serve as the pages and lift the train carefully. They take this job with consideration and make sure it never touches the ground, even if that means they trip on one another  (and have to refrain from punching each other in the middle of attention).

As soon as they’re at the altar, the Doctor removes himself and goes to his place beside Zero while the trick-or-treaters take a seat in their reserved chairs. Everyone quiets down as the lovers hold each other’s hands. Jack carefully removes Sally’s veil and notices the beautiful paleness of her face. They gaze into each other’s eyes and smile, the endearing looks never fading while the Mayor speaks. He begins the long speech about marriage and unity. No one’s really paying attention - instead, infatuated with the couple before them.

In the middle of the Mayor’s validation, a roar of thunder is heard overhead. Raindrops begin to pour from the sky. Thankfully, everyone seated is under the protection of the canopy. However, the Mayor realizes far too late that he’s in the open. As the raindrops fall, they drench his papers. He struggles to dry them while Jack and Sally continue to stare at each other, blissfully unaware of the water falling on them. An umbrella is summoned from the skeleton’s sleeve, which he politely holds over Sally with his other hand.

“Oh, what’s the  use !” The Mayor throws his hands in the air. “These papers are ruined!”

“Start with the vows!” Someone impatiently yells from the back. There is a loud murmur of agreement from the crowd.

“Alright, alright ! Jack, do you take Sally to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, and in sickness and in health, for the rest of eternity?”

“I do.” He states firmly.

“And Sally, do you take Jack to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do.”

They take the rings from Zero, who is all too happy to deliver it to them. They slip it on each other’s fingers and hold their hands once more. Everyone around them shifts in their seats anxiously, the tension building up to witness their King and Queen’s first official kiss as a wedded couple.

“I’m sure we’re all waiting for it, so I’ll just say it!” The Mayor chuckles with a wide grin. “You may now kiss the bride!”

Everyone leans forward in anticipation as the skeleton lowers the umbrella, takes Sally by the waist, and kisses her passionately on the lips. She closes her eyes and wraps her arms around his neck - similarly to when they first kissed on the Spiral Hill. The audience erupts into applause and cheers, some even leaping out of their seats. Lock, Shock, and Barrel pretend to shove their fingers down their throats, but are ignored as the couple turns to the crowd.

“Everyone!” The sound of Jack’s voice quiets everyone down. “May I introduce you to…your new Pumpkin Queen!”

He steps to the side to bow theatrically and extends his hand in front of Sally. They erupt into cheers once more. The ragdoll blushes shyly as she takes his hand again. He stands up straight to lay a kiss on its surface, lowering his eye sockets as he brushes her cheek with his knuckles. She leans into his touch and unconsciously lifts her leg. Jack turns back to the crowd and rushes down the altar, being mindful of his wife while he does so.

“Let’s celebrate!” He calls.

Everyone follows after and cackles. They don’t mind the rain, as ones in suits and dresses dance and jump in the puddles. They join Jack and Sally inside the Town Hall, where the once-large auditorium is now redecorated into a ballroom. The tall wedding cake, filled with layers of Halloween Town goodness and a pumpkin cake topper, is sitting at the center. Surrounding it are tables for the guests, as well as the large, empty space for dancing.

The room is packed by the time everyone arrives.

————————

The celebrations go swimmingly. The first thing monsters and creatures do is dance - filling the floor with couples and ghouls partying their souls out. The music is played once more by the Halloween Town Band, who perform a few jazz songs before settling on slower music. The groom and the bride are in the center before Jewel receives the next dance with the Pumpkin King. As she and Jack perform a waltz, Sally joins Dr. Finklestein at the table he is seated at. As much as she would like to dance with her father, he isn’t willing to go through the trouble with his wheelchair. Accompanied with her frail stitches, it’s bound for some embarrassing trip-ups that they both want to avoid on her wedding day.

She clasps her hands in her lap as she watches him sip his wine. A few minutes pass as they listen to the music and watch the guests dance on the floor. He suddenly sets down the glass and rubs the side of his head. He coughs into his arm awkwardly as he momentarily avoids eye contact with her.

“Well, my dear, you’re going to be the Pumpkin Queen now…”

She looks at him inquisitively.  His words sound uneasy. She’s rarely heard this tone from him, beyond the times Jack threatened him for her well-being. But that’s all in the past, now. They’ve mended their relationship since then. She nods encouragingly for him to continue. And he does, with a reluctant breath:

“You are now my Queen. Which means I will have to abide by your every demand. You know it isn’t like me to disobey royalty. And now…well, you can do  anything . If you hold any reservations about how I treated you, then-”

“Doctor…” She interrupts, holding her breath. She goes to say something, but when she catches sight of his face, the words fail to leave her lips.

The tears are gently flowing from underneath his glasses. A few drops have escaped his vision during the ceremony, but now he’s succumbed to the cries. She instinctively reaches for her father. He does the same, and before they know it, they’re holding onto each other and shedding tears together quietly. This earns some sentimental looks from those nearby, including Jewel peeking over Jack Skellington’s shoulder from afar.

“Don’t look now, but they’re having a moment.” She mutters.

He gives her an odd look and she simply points her finger in their direction. When he follows her gaze, he finds his wife clinging onto her father, both swept up in emotion that they forget they’re in the middle of a wedding. He can’t help but smile, continuing to waltz his mother-in-law across the dance floor without a word.

——————-

After letting them have their scene, Jack and Jewel eventually interrupt them. The Doctor and Sally are reluctant to let go, but eventually do, giving each other a last embrace before they separate. They seem happier now, assuming they got whatever they needed off their chests. He isn’t sure what made them so emotional, but it doesn’t matter. Jack leads his wife to their table and waits to cut the cake. Sally isn’t too keen with handling such a sharp knife, what with the threads in her way, so she lets him take the honors to cut the slices. Everyone watches hungrily as they lick their lips. Particularly, the young trio that crowds the table.

  “When do we get our piece?” “-Yeah! You’re been serving everyone BUT us!” “What flavor is it?”

Jack rolls his eye sockets before serving the three their own plates. They haven’t caused a ruckus and did what they were told so far - so he figures they’re due for a reward. They take their dessert and run off, to one of the tables out of his sight. After all the slices are served, the couple receive their share and retreat to their seats. Everyone begins eating their food, most of them noisily, as the skeleton and ragdoll pick at theirs. While the crowd is dining, the Mayor stands in his chair and clinks his glass with his spoon. This earns the attention of everyone in the room, glancing up from their servings.

“I believe it’s time to make a toast!” He announces happily, holding his drink high in the air. “To our Pumpkin King and his new Queen - may your eternity be terrible and dreadful!”

Everyone exclaims in agreement, taking a hefty gulp from their glasses. They resume their treats with more chatter this time around. During this time, James, John and Jimmy make their way over to the King and Queen’s table, offering their best wishes and congratulations. Nothing is out of the ordinary until Jack Skellington feels someone slap his back harshly. He notices James reaching for his hand in order to shake it respectfully. He’s happy to offer it to him.

He suddenly gets pulled forward, so his voice stays between them. “You better keep Dolly happy, bone Daddy. If not , you’ll be hearin’ from us.”

“Heh!” Jack begins to laugh, believing it’s a good-natured joke from his friends, but grits his teeth when he feels his palm almost get snapped into two. “ Oh… ”

A few others decide to make speeches, which they happily listen to - until they find nearly the whole town wanting to say something, and the Mayor finally puts a stop to it. They’re touched by the words of their citizens, with how welcoming they are of Sally as their new Queen and his wife. The children have all sorts of questions for her. She spends a solid few minutes answering them while Jack listens in the background, pretending to focus on his cake.

“Do you think you'll ever have kids?” The Mummy Boy asks, picking at his bandages. “We’ll have more friends to play with if you do.”  

Sally blushes, peeking at her husband for a only slight second before turning back. She neglects to see the look of interest on his face. He listens carefully as she replies, a contemplative look on his face as he rubs the side of his skull in thought.

“Maybe someday.”

——————–

“Jack, how long is eternity?”

“It’s forever, darling. There is no end.”

“I see…”

“Are you happy with that? That we’re going to be together, now and  forever ?”

They’re seated on a bench outside the Town Hall, the moonlight seeping through the windows and boards of the roof over their heads. It’s still raining outside, the sounds of the drops and occasional rounds of thunder interrupting them every now and again. The wedding has been going on for several hours now. There are still a considerable amount of guests inside. It takes a lot of skill to sneak out here without anyone seeing. And here they are now - situated on a bench, holding hands, and talking quietly. Unbeknownst to anyone, it’s always been their favorite thing to do.

“Of course I am.” Sally rests her head on him and closes her eyes. “There’s no one else I’d want to be with.”

“I feel the same way.”

Jack kisses the top of her head and rests his skull there, the two of them sitting and quietly listening to their breaths. They can’t think of anything more peaceful. Eventually, it’s him who breaks the silence. He can’t seem to keep his thoughts to himself today. He wants to express how happy and grateful he is - to be married to the love of his death, now.

“To think it’s been a century since the town’s had a Queen…I think there are many here who have never had one.”

She bites her lip, gently tugging at her seams. He motions her hand away and grips it, giving her an encouraging look. She looks at the floor. “-You really think I’ll make a good Pumpkin Queen?”

She can’t seem to ever stop asking this question. He smiles softly. “Of course. Without any doubt.” He brushes his fingertips through her hair, tangling his fingers within the red yarn. Then he adds, “Everyone loves you; you’re a wonderful role model.”

“Role model?  Me ?” She turns red. “No, I…I’m not exactly-”

“You were locked up for a good portion of your life, remember? But did that stop you from coming to see me?” He smiles when she shakes her head  ‘no’ . “-There you go. You wanted something, so you worked to get to it. That’s inspirational. I don’t know how anyone CAN’T look up to you!”

She nestles in his arms. He holds her closely, wishing to ease her concerns.

“Don’t be stressed, Sally. It’s my job to be as frightening as I can be. And take care of other things, too.” He tilts his skull and brushes his hand along her cheek. “You can do anything you want to do. I’ll support you no matter what, and I know  they will, too.”

She stares into his eye sockets for a long time, a smile stretched on her face. He notices the tears starting to stream from her eyes and moves forward to gently wipe them. She sniffles and lays her head on his shoulder, embracing him as close as she can . He wraps his arms around her tightly in response, closing his eye sockets and indulging himself in her warm touch.

“This is the happiest day of my life.” She admits, choking up. “I’m married to you. Do you know how long I’ve dreamed of this? The moment you set me free from that Tower, I wanted this so badly. To be  yours  and you to be  mine… ”

“I wanted this, too. I proposed to you, after all.” He rubs her back soothingly with a lighthearted laugh. “It’s the best decision I’ve ever made.” He admits.

She removes herself to gaze into his eye sockets again, this time with tears spilling out from her eyes. Before he can tend to them, she presses her lips on his, pulling him into a heartfelt kiss. He returns the affection, naturally. It lasts a minute or two, but they remain outside for the rest of the ceremony, gazing at the stars every time a clear spot appears in the stormy night sky.

—-----

Her coronation is just as nerve-wracking and difficult to get through, but it means so much to her and Jack all the same. The town attends much like last time, excited to see their new ruler be rightfully crowned. And Sally does a wonderful job through it all - ignoring her shaking limbs at times and anxious habit of picking at her seams.

It was a thorough process, teaching her how to rule Halloween as well as the town. She was often overwhelmed by it all, but comforted by her husband every time she felt stressed. It’s apparent that he’d be by her side through it all, to share the workload like a true King and Queen do. Over time, she embraces her responsibilities - happy to share it all with the man she loves.

The skeleton feels a warmth spread in his bones when he places the crown on her head. A movement done so slowly - so intensely, staring into her eyes as she blinks at him…it looks beautiful on her. Like it was always meant to be there. No head can fit it as right as hers does. She stands slowly and he takes her into his arms, holding her tightly and listening to the applause and cheering from their people all around them. He relishes her touch, and by then, everything feels exactly as how it’s meant to be.

  His Pumpkin Queen.  

 THE END

[autumnfall3n]

am i ur trick or treat ? ;3

[prettyinpunk]

when you turn out the lights...

for LOML @killedbythegroove ☀️

[ofstarsandvibranium]

He's A Pretty One

Fandom: Stranger Things

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You're visiting your cousin in Hawkins for the summer and you meet his very pretty and very rebellious friend and bandmate.

You're mindlessly perusing through the aisles of Family Video. Your younger cousin, Gareth dragged you along so you could help him decide on what movie to pick.

He approaches you with two in hand, "Halloween or Texas Chainsaw Massacre?"

You grimace and look at him with a confused look, "Gare, it's the summer time. Why the hell do you want to watch horror movies?" It was summer time. You were one hundred percent sure there were better movies to pick than either of those two.

Your cousin rolls his eyes at you, "You can watch scary movies any time of the year, Y/N." His statement makes it seem like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"It feels wrong watching it during the summer," you try to reason with Gareth.

He smirks, "Do you not want to watch it because it 'feels wrong'," he says using air quotations, "or is it cause you're a scaredy cat?" He's looking at you with the most annoying look on his face that you kind of want to punch him.

You narrow your eyes at him, "Shut the fuck up, Gareth. I'm not the one who refused to swim in the pool three summers ago after watching Poltergeist."

You hear a snort around the corner, causing you and Gareth to turn. A guy who looks around to be your age comes into view. His arms are crossed over his chest and he's smirking at Gareth, "You refused to go swimming after Poltergeist?"

Gareth rolls his eyes, "You never know if the pool you're swimming in was built over dead bodies that hadn't been relocated!"

The guy snorts and looks at you, sticking his hand out, "I'm Eddie-"

"Munson. Yeah, Gare's mentioned you before. I'm Y/N," you grasp his hand and give it a quick shake.

"Huh. Funny. Gareth never mentioned he had a girlfriend," he looks you up and down with no shame.

Both you and Gareth gag.

"We're cousins!"

"That's so fucking gross."

Eddie chuckles and holds his hands up, "Sorry. Didn't mean to assume," he then grabs the two movies from Gareth's hands. He looks at both and then shoves Texas Chainsaw Massacre to his chest, "Chainsaw Massacre is better."

He smirks and looks you up and down one last time, "Hope to see ya around Y/N," he gives you a wink and heads to the counter to pay.

Gareth looks at you and then Eddie and then back at you, "Please, don't," he says with a pleading face of desperation.

"What? I didn't say anything!"

"Please don't tell me you like Eddie."

"I don't....I just think he's...pretty."

Gareth gags again and you smack him on the head, "Oh quit it! Besides, I can have a summer fling if I want! You said there's nothing fun to do in this town, so why can't I create some fun for myself?"

"That's gross," your cousin shudders and goes to the counter to pay.

___________________________

The next time you see Eddie is at band practice. Eddie as well as the rest of Corroded Coffin arrive at Gareth's ready to practice their new set.

Eddie gives you a nod while the rest of the guys are fairly awkward around you. While they're warming up and tuning their instruments, you go up to Eddie, putting an extra sway to your hips.

"Is it okay if I'm here?"

He nonchalantly shrugs with a grin on his face, "Why wouldn't it be okay?"

You nod towards Jeff and Doug behind him, "I think I make them uncomfortable."

Eddie looks over his shoulder and snorts, "It's just 'cause they've never been in the presence of a hot girl before."

You smirk at him, "You think I'm hot?"

He looks you up and down like he did at the video store, "I think you know the answer, sweetheart."

"CAN WE PLEASE START PRACTICE NOW?!" Gareth yells, breaking the tension that started to build between you and Eddie.

Eddie rolls his eyes and slips his guitar strap over his shoulder, "Yeah, alright." He slowly backs away but shoots you a wink as he gets into position.

You plop yourself onto the couch ready to watch what your cousin and his friends got.

__________________

You thought Eddie was hot before but holy fuck was he sexy as hell now after you've watched him perform. The way he plays and sings his heart out is just...it leaves you speechless...and a little hot.

After practice was over, Gareth goes up to you, sweaty but with a proud look on his face, "So? Whaddaya think?"

"You guys sound pretty good, Gare. And you guys are performing this weekend right?"

"Yup! You're coming right?"

You snort, "I have nothing else better to do, plus, I gotta support your annoying ass," you shove his shoulder and your cousin rolls his eyes.

You try to shove him again but Gareth dodges you and steps away. You chuckle and then glance at Eddie, who's had his eyes on you the entire time.

You walk up to him with a smirk, "Not bad, Van Halen."

"Thanks," Eddie puffs up his chest in pride, "Gonna be our first groupie, hm?"

You scoff and wave off his comment, "Oh please, I'm just supporting my cousin."

Eddie licks his lips and leans closer to you, "Come on. Once we get big, you can have bragging rights that you were our first fan and that you knew us before we blew up."

You cross your arms over your chest and tilt your head to the side, "That all I get for seeing you guys perform? Bragging rights?"

He looks at you with a smirk, "Why? You want something more?"

You snort and take a step closer to Eddie, your face very close to his, "Think you have something I'd want, Pretty Boy?"

He's smiling wide at you now, "You think I'm pretty?"

You look him up and down just like how he did earlier. To repeat his words back to him, "I think you know the answer, sweetheart." You then turn on your heel and head back inside Gareth's house leaving him feeling equally as hot as he made you feel.

Part 2

[strangermarvelss]

all of the girls you loved before- e.m

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: the one where eddie runs into his first love, leaving you to question your relationship in the aftermath. loosely based on the taylor swift song with the same title.

Warnings: angst, crying, jealousy, insecurity, eddie being rude unintentionally, cursing, pda (gross), eddie and reader are a few years out of high school, fluff, happy ending

Word Count: 4.8k

Request?: No

A/N: hello again everyone, its been a minute! since i’ve been gone, i’ve entered my swiftie era (not like crazy obsessed but def a fan of the music) and this gem of a song dropped and plucked some inspiration from me, so here is a new one shot for you all! enjoy! -sava

The haze within the hot open room of the Hideout was starting to dissipate, the crowd exiting the venue one by one as the band you’ve been cheering on from your spot at the bar begins clearing the stage of their equipment. The ringing in your ears has yet to go away, getting so lost in the metal music that you didn’t care if it would bite you in the ass at work tomorrow, you’d find a way to take customers orders at the diner, even if they had to scream in order for you to understand. 

You found yourself sitting at the same spot at the Hideout every Tuesday night to cheer your boyfriend and his band members on. Within the years since graduating high school, the town you called home started coming around to the type of music your boyfriend played, despite ridiculing him for years prior to their own revelations. With the new popularity, Tuesday nights at the Hideout have gone from 5 drunks sitting in the back to almost a packed house every week, begging for encores and autographs at the end of each show. It made you happy seeing your boyfriend celebrated in such a way, having been there for him in his lowest points when the tables were turned. Now you bask in his glory like never before, cheering him on alongside the rest of the town.

Paying your tab, you begin walking towards the back stage area when you see a tall lanky man with long luscious curls make his way over to you, his smile wide as his signature dimples poked into the sides of his cheeks. He extends his arms wide, not caring if he gets in anyones way as he greets you. Taking off in a run, you launch yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck and legs around his waist as he catches you, hands making contact with your ass in a not-so-subtle way. You pull away and look at him momentarily before pressing your lips to his.

You take in his scent as your mouths move together as one, the sweaty smell that was no match for masking with his cheap cologne filling your nostrils, but you didn’t mind one bit. You part away from his lips, looking at the deep chocolate irises that you love seeing on a daily basis before running a hand through his sweaty mop of curls. He sets you down and plays with his bangs, moving them to the side as they desperately try to cling to his damp forehead.

“You guys killed it tonight,” you tell him, pulling him in for another hug. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you into his side and twisting his upper body and leaning down to press a kiss to your hair before flashing a closed mouth smile at you.

“Couldn’t have done it without my number one fan,” he says, cupping your cheek with his large calloused hand and placing yet another kiss to your body, this time directed at your forehead.

“So I was thinking that maybe tonight we go back to my apartment and watch some movies? I know we usually go bother my coworkers at the diner after your show but I kind of just want some you and me time,” you tell him with a smile.

“That sounds even better than going to the diner. I bet you’ve already picked out a selection of movies.” “You know me so well. I rented Halloween, Nightmare on Elm St-“

“Eddie? Eddie Munson?” a feminine voice calls out from behind you. You and Eddie turn around, watching a slim figure approach you with a bashful look plastered on her face. As she got closer, you noticed she was wearing a short black leather skirt and a bright pink top, barely leaving anything to the imagination with the amount of cleavage she was showing. Her hair was long and straight, looking silky to the touch as her skin glowed under the colorful stage lights that were still on. Who the hell is this, and how did she know Eddie?

Eddie squints his eyes as she approaches the two of you, his face relaxing and the smile growing wider than you’ve ever seen it when he finally makes out her features. You won’t deny the twinge you feel in your chest as you watch him drop your hand and give the mysterious woman a big embrace, bigger than the one he gave you moments ago.

“Holy shit! How are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” Eddie exclaims, breaking away and tucking his hands under his armpits.

“M’good! Just finished up college not too long ago so I came back to Hawkins while I search for something a little more permanent,” she tells him, her timid demeanor going out the window as you watch the two grow comfortable with one another. “I see things at the Hideout have changed since we went to high school not too long ago.”

“Yeah, they sure have,” Eddie chuckles, kicking one of his feet out as he looks down. “Looks like the people in this shit town have finally come around when it comes to listening to good music.”

As you watch the interactions from person to person unfold in front of you, you feel the familiar tickle in your nose begin, hoping and praying that you won’t be noticeable if you aren’t able to get rid of the impending sneeze.

“Achoo!” You exclaim, bending down and hiding your nose in the crook of your elbow, silently yelling at yourself when you watch both pairs of eyes land on you.

“Bless you,” the mystery woman says with a smile. You nod, taking a step forward to try and join in on the conversation.

“Thank you,” you tell her, extending your hand. “I’m Y/N by the way, Eddie’s girlfriend.”

You watch Eddie nod as she takes your hand, shaking it firmly. “I’m Heather.”

Suddenly you feel your brain catching up with the rest of the world, clicking into place once the name leaves her mouth. This was the Heather you’d heard so much about from Eddie’s friends. The same Heather that just so happened to be his first love, capturing his heart in ways you wish you could’ve done yourself. If only you’d moved to Hawkins earlier in your high school career compared to your senior year, a.k.a Eddie’s second attempt at being a senior. 

The members of the Hellfire Club gave you all the details that you needed to know about Heather: that she was Eddie’s first everything. First date, first love, first time, and eventually, his first heartbreak. The two were smitten with one another when no one else wanted to look Eddie’s way, with all the judgy classmates questioning why they were together in the first place. They didn’t see Eddie for who he truly was, they only ever judged him based on his outer appearance. The same goes for Heather: everyone always questioned why someone as hot as her would settle for someone like Eddie, which always made you upset to hear.

“It’s really nice to meet you Heather. I’ve heard a lot about you,” you tell her, trying your best to sound as sincere as possible. Eddie shoots you a look, silently telling you to stop, which makes your heart drop a bit. Adverting your eyes from him, you look back at Heather, who didn’t miss the interaction. 

“All good things I hope,” she jokes.

“Are you kidding? Of course all good things. I can only hope you extended the same courtesy for me, if you did tell your college friends about me,” he says, rushing the last part out. Was he getting nervous?

“I can assure you that I did. Even after the way things ended…” she says, looking down to the ground as her sentence trails off. You can sense the tension in the air, feeling as if you’re causing the vibe of the conversation to shift a bit. Masking your feelings with a smile, you turn to them and excuse yourself, lying about needing to use the restroom before heading out for the night. Holding the curtain to the side, you enter the backstage area and round a counter towards an empty hallway you know nobody ever comes down after the shows, as you and Eddie have had your share of moments in this very spot, both PG and R rated moments.

As the secluded feeling sinks in, you feel the confidence and happiness that filled your body just moments ago begin to evaporate, vanishing into thin air as you replay the last few minutes in your head. His big smile when he saw her, the big and warm embrace, the look he gave you when you nudged your way into the conversation. It made you want to shrink into yourself. Jealousy was never something you were known for having, usually being more focused on the moment at hand and knowing the security you had with the relationships you had with the people around you.

But the history between Eddie and Heather changed that.

When you first heard about Heather, you didn’t pay much attention to it because you knew that was his past. He told you numerous times that he loves you and loves being with you, and it made you confident in the strength of your relationship. But knowing how strong those feelings he had for Heather and seeing her interact with him in real time, it changed things. He was a different man from the one he was in high school, having graduated and making a name for himself with the music he loves performing. And now that Heather is back in Hawkins for a while, it makes you wonder what could happen between the two of them. 

Would they be able to reconcile? It didn’t look like there were any harsh feelings anymore, so maybe making up was still an option for them. What if Eddie wanted to revisit his past and be with the girl he loved before you came into his life? Was the love he had for her stronger than the love he has for you?

You could feel yourself being to spiral, your arms wrapping around your body and hugging on tight. Your breathing was starting to become jagged and unsteady, trying your best to take deep breaths slowly to get yourself to calm down. Thinking the worst was always such an easy solution for you, because preparing for the worst and not being shocked by the disappointment that lies ahead was better than being blind to the impending doom.

Once you feel yourself becoming calmer, you exit the hallway and walk towards the curtain once again, hesitating and stopping in your tracks. Peeking your head out, you can see the two of them still talking, Eddie throwing his head back in laughter as the two share a funny moment with one another, making your heartache grow. Retreating back behind the curtain, you turn and see Gareth walking your way, a smug look on his face before contorting into a welcoming smile.

“Hey Y/N! Glad to see you made it out tonight, even though I know you’re in the audience every Tuesday,” he says, wrapping his arms around you. You give him a quick hug, pulling away and failing to mask the hurt as you see his demeanor change. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, everything is fine…it’s just, Heather is here tonight. She came up to Eddie and I and started talking with him and catching up-“

“Wait, Heather Heather?” Gareth asks before poking his head out of the curtain. “Holy shit! I had no idea she was back in town. Still looks as hot as ever.”

Pretending to ignore that, you let out a sigh and tap him on the shoulder. Gareth turns to you, lifting a brow.

“Can you make out what her and Eddie are talking about? I think I sort of killed their vibe earlier and now it looks like things are picking up now that I’m not there.”

“Yeah, hang on one second,” he tells you before disappearing behind the curtain. As much as you appreciate Gareth helping, you were more scared to know how the conversation is going. With all the possibilities that were swirling around in your head, it was just getting fogged up with negativity that you were not expecting this evening and you hated going to such a low place.

A moment later, Gareth pops back from the other side of the curtain with a neutral expression, which worries you more than it should. You raise your eyebrows at him, bracing yourself for whatever news that he was about to deliver.

“So I used the gig as an excuse to talk with them and told Eddie that we were almost done loading the equipment up, which is true, and he said he’d be back here in a minute. But as I was walking away, I heard Heather mention how they should catch up another time over coffee and when I looked back, she was writing her number down on a napkin for him,” he explains.

Somehow the news hurts you more than you imagined it would. With their plans on the horizon sometime soon, it made the insecurities rise once again. You knew how special someone’s first love could be because Eddie was that for you. Before moving to Hawkins, you had your fair share of dating but none that meant much to you compared to the feelings your harbor for Eddie. Knowing that he already experienced that with someone else didn’t bother you until that person had to show up right there in front of you. A majority of these worries and doubts reside in your head, you’re aware of that, but it almost feels as if there is going to be a choice he is going to make, and it isn’t looking good for your side.

You can feel the tears beginning to well in your eyes, unable to hide the frown that resides on your lips as you process what Gareth told you. Looking at him, you flash him a sad smile before wiping away at your bottom lash line, a half-baked attempt to get rid of the tears. He rests a hand on your shoulder, ducking his head down to try and make eye contact with you. 

“Hey, don’t get sad, okay? Heather is just Eddie’s past, but you’re his present and his future. You don’t have anything to worry about,” he tries to reassure you.

“Yeah, you might be right,” you tell him before meeting his gaze and making eye contact. “But you didn’t see the way he looked at her. The way he smiled at her, the way he held her. On top of that, the way he looked at me when I talked to her. I’m worried that I actually do have something to worry about,” you explain.

Now it was Gareth’s turn to frown, breaking the eye contact and staring at the floor below. He should know better than anyone how Eddie felt about Heather all those years ago and it doesn’t just go away overnight. 

“I think I should go. I’m going to sneak around the other way…will-will you tell Eddie I wasn’t feeling good or something? If you can think of a good excuse, just use it, because my brain is fogged up right now and I can’t think of any,” you ask. Gareth nods, sending a sad smile your way before you disappear behind more curtains as you make your way around the stage to exit through the front doors unnoticed.

—————————————————————————————————————

It’s been three days since you’ve last seen Eddie.

Clocking out of your shift at the diner, you sigh as you realize its your usual date night with Eddie, yet haven’t heard a word from him since the awkward encounter with his ex at the Hideout. To say the silence has hurt you would be an understatement, as you wait by the phone any chance you’re home hoping he will call. He always makes it a point to call you at the end of each day when he knows you both are already off work, catching up on each others days and talking for hours before falling asleep.

Now you’re going home alone for the fourth night in a row, wasting away as you prepare yourself for when Eddie does eventually call you to break things off, telling you he wants to try things with Heather again while she is in town and rekindle the blissful and naive love they once held in their hearts for one another.

Tossing your jacket on the back of one of the chairs at your kitchen table, you let out a sigh as you begin making your way to your bedroom and undressing your uniform. Quickly, you change into a comfortable band t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts, tossing your dirty uniform in your laundry basket before going back to the kitchen. Opening your fridge, you spot the bottle of wine you have been eyeing every day after work this week. The delicious red teasing you and wanting you to indulge in the sweet liquid to cope with the impending end of your relationship.

“Fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, before grasping the bottle and twisting the cap open. Opening the cabinet above, you grab the first wine glass you see and take it out, pouring the wine in until it gets close the the rim. You take hold of the glass and make your way over to your couch, bringing the glass to your lips and letting the wine travel down your throat with ease. 

Before you’re able to bask in the taste, you hear your doorbell ring throughout your apartment. With a puzzled expression, you set the glass of wine down on your coffee table and make your way back to the front door, sliding the peep hold cover to the side to get a look at just who could be outside. Rolling your eyes, you take a deep breath before opening the door, standing face to face with the man who owns your heart. At least, for the next few minutes.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says with a smile.

“What are you doing here?” You ask straight out of the gate. 

“Good to see you too,” he says, raising his eyebrows and looking down at the pizza box resting in his hands for a moment. “I wasn’t sure what you wanted to do for date night tonight, so I just took it as an opportunity to plan an evening of pizza, movies, and indulging in the new weed I got from Rick yesterday.”

“I just thought we weren’t going to do date night this week since I hadn’t heard from you,” you say.

“Sorry sweetheart, that is my bad.” He tells you as he makes his way inside your apartment. He sets the pizza on the kitchen table and opens the fridge and pulls a beer out. “I’ve been extremely busy this week with work, band practice, and…uh, well…”

“Heather?” You question, closing the door and resting your back against it as you bring your arms to cross in front of your chest. He stills for a moment, frozen in place as silence falls over the apartment unit. Turning to you, he raises his eyebrows while biting his lip, his physical look of guilt showing front and center. Trying your best to remain stoic, you quirk a brow at him, keeping your position at the door as you wait for an explanation. 

“How, uh…how’d you know about that?” He finally asks after several minutes of silence.

“Gareth told me before I left on Tuesday. Said he overheard her giving you her number,” you answer plainly.

Another beat of silence falls throughout the room. Eddie’s attention is on the floor below him, kicking his feet as he digs his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and forgetting about the beer he was excited about enjoying. You find your eyes diverting to the ground as well, finding it hard to look over at your favorite metalhead. Mentally preparing yourself for the ache to grow, you finally let out a deep sigh, your hand coming up to rub at your forehead before you work up the courage to look at him again.

“Look, if you came all this way to let me down gently with pizza and weed, you can just save yourself the trouble. I’ve already spent the past few days preparing for this, so lets just call it what it is and go on about our lives, okay?” You muster out, feeling your throat close up and voice waver towards the end. You shut your mouth, turning your head as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver. Opening the door, you step to the side and remain silent, not trusting yourself to speak anymore. You can’t breakdown in front of him, not when he’s choosing another girl over you.

You hear his heavy footsteps grow closer to you, stopping right before your figure. Your eyes are planted to the floor, seeing his stark white Reeboks enter your vision before leaving once again. Suddenly, you feel his hand lay on top of the one holding the handle to the front door, guiding it to a close and stepping to the side.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he reveals.

You whip your neck in the direction he moved to, seeing the sad expression on his face as his big brown cow eyes look into yours. Part of you was hesitant to question him about it, not wanting his mind to change in a matter of seconds and leave you in a puddle of sadness afterall. But the more logical part of your brain wanted answers. Why did he not bother calling you for days but thought it was okay to hang out with his ex? Why didn’t he confess earlier about seeing her around? Why was he acting so strange at the Hideout, and why didn’t he want you talking to her?

“What?”

“I said I’m not breaking up with you, sweetheart. Why was that even a thought that popped into your head?” He asks, his voice level and sweet. He takes a step closer to you, filling the small gap that had separated you moments ago before slowly extending an arm out to you, cupping your cheek in his hand and rubbing the pad of his thumb across the soft skin.

“I don’t know…” you finally answer, the lack of confidence in your voice giving you away as your sentence trails off.

“C’mon, I know you had to think that somehow. I won’t be mad or anything, I promise. Just want my sweet girl to talk to me.” You take the beat of silence to think about to how explain it to him without coming across as a jealous and needy girlfriend. You can do this, you think to yourself.

“It’s just-I know how you felt during that relationship and how deep the feelings were thanks to Gareth and Jeff, a-and the way you were talking to her and looking at her at the Hideout on Tuesday made it look like no time had passed and that the feelings were still there. I mean, she gave you her number Eds! A-and you just said you hung out with her!” You exclaim, breaking out of his grasp and retreating towards the living room. You run a hand down your face, sighing as you try to level your heavy breathing. 

“Okay, when you put it like that…yeah it sounds bad,” you hear him say from the kitchen. You sit on the couch, taking a large sip of the wine you abandoned earlier. Eddie turns around and stalks over to you, sitting on the chair opposite of you, not wanting to get too close again after the failed attempt. “But baby, I promise nothing happened with Heather and I, okay? We went over to Rick’s last night after grabbing coffee and smoked. Nothing more.”

“I just wish you told me about it,” you let out, feeling deflated from the way you were reacting.

“I know baby, and I’m sorry I didn’t. Work had been busy and when I was going to call you after I woke up yesterday, Heather called and asked to hang out at the coffee shop. I should’ve used the payphone outside the place or hell, called you before I left my place. If I could go back and do so I would.”

You flash him a half-hearted smile, looking back towards your wine glass before picking it up once again. Bringing it to your lips, you take another big sip, beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol move throughout your limbs and send a tingling feeling in them. Out of the corner of your eye, you watch Eddie slide over onto the couch, still leaving room between the two of you as he leans his arms on his knees, hanging his head down a bit and letting his long mane of curls move forward with him.

“You want to know what we talked about yesterday? Over coffee?” He asks, quirking a brow your way as he shifts a bit from his position.

“Hmm?”

“We caught up, I asked her about college, she told me all kinds of stories. Even told me the story of how she met her fiancé, who moved in with her when she came back to Hawkins. They’re getting married in November, a few weeks before Thanksgiving which I thought was nice. Then I talked to her about you, and how we’ve been dating since the winter of ’84 and been inseparable since then. I must’ve been smiling really hard or something because she pointed out how happy I looked when I talk about you, which is true,” he chuckles out, a silly grin creeping onto his features.

Now it was your turn to smile, unable to hide the warm and fuzzy feeling that made its way into your chest at hearing the words. You set the wine glass back down, shifting on the couch so you were facing his direction, legs crossed as you leaned over to take his hand in yours. “Really?”

“Oh of course baby. Look, what I had with Heather all those years ago was great, and I appreciate the time I had with her then. But loving her taught me how to be better and show the person I was really meant for all the more love and affection that they deserve. You,” he boops your nose, making a giggle escape past your lips. “-you are the one I love now and will love until I take my last breath okay? All the shit I’ve been through was worth it because it brought you to me when you moved here, and I am so fucking happy about that. Wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

You can’t help but feel the burning sensation behind your eyes at Eddie’s sweet words. Sure, you still felt like a bit of a fool for acting like a jealous girlfriend, but hearing Eddie shut down all your worries and reassure you about his feelings for you in the nicest way you could’ve imagined warmed your heart. You move your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him towards you and closing the distance between you as your lips meet his. His hand instinctively goes to your hip, holding you closer as his mouth moves against yours in fever.

Eventually pulling away, you lean your forehead against his, giggling to yourself as you feel his bangs tickle the sensitive skin of your cheeks. You look at his big brown eyes, seeing the soft look he was giving you and melting all over again.

“Sorry for acting like a jealous girlfriend babe. Not the prettiest look for me if I’m being honest,” you joke.

“Hey, if the roles were reversed, I would totally act the way you did, so I get it. But now you know that you don’t ever have to worry about anyone else, because like I said, you’re it for me baby. I love you.”

“I love you more,” you say, pressing your lips to his cheek. He shoots you a grin, breaking contact with your forehead and rubbing slow circles into the fabric of your leggings. 

“How about I warm up that pizza I brought over and we pop in one of those movies I rented? You probably need some food after all that wine you drank,” he says, making you laugh. Nodding, you agree.

“That sounds like the best idea you’ve had.”

[hbyrde36]

STWG Daily Prompt 04/28/24

as chosen by our own @penny00dreadful

Fairytale✨

He was never going to find her.

Steve sighed heavily, letting his lunch tray drop to the table as he plopped down into his seat next to Nancy and Jonathan, the spot he’d been occupying ever since he’d had some sense knocked into him and dumped Tommy and Carol as friends for good. 

He’d gotten a lot of funny looks for that move, not only because he’d nuked his popularity along with his friendships, but because Nancy had dumped him for Jonathan, or so the rumor mill said, and yet here he was beside them. The truth was that their uncoupling had been a mutual decision, they just didn’t care enough to correct the narrative. 

But, back to Steve’s lament. 

It’d been almost a week since he saw her, the mystery girl that he’d spent almost the entire Halloween Ball with. They hadn’t spoken at all, the music had been too loud for that, but they’d stuck close to each other all night, danced, shared a few laughs as they pointed out their classmates' costumes–both good and bad– and shared a brief, but earth shattering kiss in a dark corner of the gym.

Now normally, Steve wouldn’t have been caught dead at one of the school’s dances, but his high school career was rapidly coming to a close, and honestly he was just trying to get himself out there, make some better memories before he was forced to grow up and enter the adult world.

Also… Nancy and Jonathan had made him.

Then they’d ditched him to go make out in the darkroom, but that was fine, It’d all been worth it to meet—her.

Steve only stepped away for a moment to get them a couple drinks, but when he returned to their spot by the bleachers, she was gone, the only evidence that she’d ever been there at all was a ring left behind on the floor. He picked it up, remembering how she’d fiddled with them a lot, her many rings, and must have dropped this one without realizing. 

He pocketed it, knowing it would be the key to finding her again.

Because, and this was his dilemma, on top of not knowing his mystery girl’s name, he also had no idea what she really looked like. While his Indiana Jones costume had left no question as to his own identity, she’d been dressed as a mummy, wrapped up in layers of gauzy fabric, only showing off her long dark curly hair, the biggest most gorgeous brown eyes he’d ever seen, and perfect pink pouty lips.

After spending the last several days combing the school, asking every brunette he came across if the ring was hers—to no avail—Steve had all but given up, assuming the girl had been someone’s friend or cousin visiting from out of town.

“What’s all this?” Steve asked, finally noticing the stack of photos Jonathan had spread out on the table around them. 

Jonathan took a bite of his sandwich, answering with his mouth still half full. “group shots of all the clubs for the yearbook, I just got them developed.”

Steve pushed his own lunch away, not hungry, and pulled a few of the pictures closer to him. He wasn’t really looking, looking, there wouldn’t be anyone in those pictures he hadn’t already seem roaming the halls, or so he thought. Then he spotted a familiar piece of jewelry on the finger of someone entirely unexpected. 

Eddie Munson, head of the Hellfire Club. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled the ring out, keeping it hidden under the table as he looked between it and the one in the photo. Same band, same stone, same black nail polish on the hand’s fingers too.

Dark curly hair, check. 

Big beautiful brown eyes, check. 

Soft pouty pink lips, double check.

Okay, so, the mystery girl wasn’t a girl at all. It explained why he’d had so much trouble finding her at least.

Steve sat with that fact throughout the rest of the lunch period, and by the time the bell rang had decided that it didn’t change a thing. He wasn’t freaked out that he’d kissed a boy, he didn’t even care that it was Munson, certified freak and D&D nerd. He was a little embarrassed that he’d assumed his special someone was a girl just because he had long hair and pretty eyes, but moving past that—

Now Steve just had to woo his man.

“Hey, Munson?” Steve called out as he jogged down the hallway, approaching the other boy from behind just as he was closing his locker. 

Eddie startled, his eyes going wide as he turned to see who had snuck up on him, but recovered quickly.

“Steeeeeeeve Harrington, what can I do for his former-royal-highness?”

Steve stepped in close, glancing around to make sure no one was watching them before he took Eddie’s hand, gently turning it over, and placed the ring in the center of his palm.  

“I think you dropped this.”

Permanent taglist (open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers

[lovebugism]

hi! not sure if you’re still taking requests but if u are may i request the prompt “it’s okay to cry in front of me, you know. you don’t have to carry this alone.” with reader comforting steve? tysm <3

bug's blurb sleepover (⁎˃ᴗ˂⁎)!

Steve tends to feel things really, really deeply.

When Nancy called him bullshit at a Halloween party and ran off with the weird kid from chemistry class a day later, he felt like it was the end of the world. His world, at least. 

He thought it was going to stick with him for the rest of his life — that she was right, that he really was bullshit, and that that truth would haunt him forever. It did. It does. It lurks over his shoulder sometimes, like a shadow or a sleeping dragon.

And when Robin’s mad at him, like mad mad, it makes him feel like dying. 

One time he overestimated how tired he was after a shift and forgot to pick Robin up after band practice. He was startled awake from his nap out of nowhere, like his brain knew he’d done something wrong, and realized he was supposed to drive her home over an hour ago. 

He found her standing with her trumpet case under the awning in a futile attempt to hide from the pouring rain. She didn’t talk to him for days — not during the drive, not at work the next day, not until he was milliseconds from groveling at her feet for her forgiveness.

But it’s different when he’s happy. He’s got you and he’s got Dustin, and he loves the two of you so much it feels like he might burst sometimes. Adoration spills from his pores like so many little rays of sunshine, leaves him a grinning and gushing thing in the place of a teenage boy. 

It’s so much worse with you, though. Because sometimes he feels like his heart beats only for you — that it follows the rhythm of your pulse, that it will stop when yours does. 

He can taste every word that spills from your mouth, the one’s coated in venom and honey alike. He can hear every sound of your soul, too. It’s the crackles of an old record player when you’re content, autumn leaves crunching when you’re angry, and the sounds of a deep, deep ocean when you’re sad.

You’re embedded into every fiber of his being. You’ve entwined yourself with him without even realizing it, tucked yourself into the outer regions of his bleeding heart with a fuzzy blanket and a good book — no sign of leaving any time soon.

He loves you hard, too hard. So hard there’s no breath without you.

So when Vecna almost kills you, it feels a little like his life is ending.

He watches you float in midair, his feet still stuck on the ground, totally helpless. 

Tears spill from your glazed-over eyes and glitter beneath streams of moonlight. Your body is slack, but your fingers tremble and your brows twitch and your chin quivers. You’re not all there, but you can feel every ounce of fear like an ice-cold bath, painful and numbing all at once. Because you know that you’re going to die. And that there’s nothing anyone else can do to stop it.

Dustin shouts for help into his supercomm, begs for Max to bring her walkman or steal the nearest boombox they see and bring it with them to Lover’s Lake. They’re too far away, though, on the other side of town in Nancy’s too slow Station Wagon picking up more hunting supplies to kill the son of a bitch trying to kill you. He knows they won’t make it in time.

Steve shakes your shoulders and shouts in your face, but you still don’t wake. He keeps a hold of you until you’re out of his reach entirely — rising and rising and rising until you’re six feet off the ground. Then he’s just begging, shouting pleas up at you, at god, at Vecna — the shriveled skin creep doing this to you. 

“Please,” he shouts to everyone and no one all at once. “Please, just— you gotta wake up, okay? I’ll be better, I’ll be so much better, I promise. I’ll listen to all the music you like, watch all the movies you want — even the ones that suck — I’ll be a better boyfriend, okay? You just— You need to wake up!”

You don’t. 

You just keep on crying, like you can hear him in whatever world Vecna’s sucked you into. Eyes fluttering, neck jerking, lips trembling. You succumb completely to the monster’s curse.

It’s Eddie that saves you.

He rushes to the stolen R.V. for his guitar, the one Steve said made him look like he was overcompensating for something, the one that’s about to save your life. “What’s her favorite song?” the boy urges as he slips the strap over his head with pale and trembling fingers.

Steve looks over at his shoulder at him. It’s hard to see through the stinging tears. “Wh— What—” He can’t form words. Or thoughts, really. The only thing going through his head is that you’re about to die, that he’s about to lose you forever. It clouds his mind like thick black smoke.

“Her favorite song?” Eddie snaps. “What is it?”

He scrambles to answer. “Uh, it’s uh— it’s Take— Take On Me… Do you know that one?”

“No,” the boy answers honestly. “But I can try.”

That’s all they can do for now. Try. Hope.

He puts his fingers to the strings, trying to find the right placements, but it’s hard when you don’t know how to play the song and you’re shaking that you’re fucking freezing. Eddie’s forced to play it by ear and tells Steve that it won’t sound exactly right and that it won’t be loud without his amp. 

It takes him a moment to find the melody, but Steve hears it the second it comes — the synth-y da-da-da-dum, da-da-dah, da-da-da-da-dum’s that were practically engrained in his psyche after he heard it on the radio the millionth time.

You weren’t as afflicted by the earworm as he was. You loved it. 

The song came out the year the two of you started dating, so all he heard for months was that catchy beat and even catchier falsetto. You played it on the jukebox when you went to the diner, popped the tape into your radio whenever he was over at your place, requested for it to be played virtually wherever you went.

You hear the song from where you’re stuck in your own head. The strums of the guitar are quiet and a little out of tune, but the uncanny notes make sense when you’re trapped in a world that isn’t really your world. Suddenly you don’t see Vecna or his claw in your face — just Steve, Steve, Steve.

He’s with you at the diner with whipped cream on his chin, making fun of you for singing to the song so off-key. He’s with you in your childhood bedroom, spinning you around and singing all the high notes with you. He’s with you at Enzo’s, the fanciest place in Hawkins for your anniversary, and slips the mini-orchestra a hundred-dollar bill to play the song for you.

Suddenly, you’re on the ground again — back in Hawkins — and gasping for breath in his arms. You can’t see him from where he’s got his face tucked into your neck, but you can feel the scarily rapid beat of his heart and the way it matches your own.

Steve sobs into you, uncaring about how loud he is or how his snot and tears stain your t-shirt. Because he almost fucking lost you. And, for a split second, he tried to think of what a life without you would look like. He quickly came up short. There was nothing — no light, no sound, no music — just darkness. A void. 

Sometimes, he thinks he would’ve died with you that night.

Vecna is dead within the next twenty-four hours after the fact. You and Nancy take turns shooting bullets in the pale patchy skin of his chest where his heart’s supposed to be while Steve and Robin throw hand-made bombs in his direction. He trips and stumbles out the window while the rotting basement erupts into flames. There’s nothing left but ashes.

Steve doesn’t feel a thing for a little while after that, just the acute urge to protect the group of you even though the boogeyman is long gone. 

He doesn’t let go of you for days, always holding onto some part of you, because he’s terrified of you slipping away again. 

He lets Dustin sleep at his place when the boy asks, but it’s for his own peace of mind more than anything else. He doesn’t let the boy out of his sight until his mom gets concerned about him. 

He drives forty-five minutes to the hospital every day for two weeks with you so you can visit Max and Lucas, always with two peanut butter jelly sandwiches for them — just in case.

He’s on auto-pilot for a while. He just keeps on taking care of everyone else because it distracts him from himself — from his own inner turmoil, from the horrors he saw that night, from the boogeyman still in his closet.

It takes you a month for you to tell him what you saw. You were a lot like him in that way, still trying to hide from it all. You would’ve been more than happy if you could squish your great big problem into a tiny little ball that you could stomp underneath your feet and forget about completely. 

But that’s not how life works. 

The thing just swells and swells and swells until it takes everything in you to stay sane.

You sit Steve down on his bed and curl into his lap — knees to your chest, head tucked beneath his chin. And you tell him about it. Everything.

You tell him that Vecna showed you Brad, the boyfriend you had before Steve. It was a replay of the last night you saw him parked at Lover’s Lake, the very same place you had been when Vecna almost took you. You’re sitting in his passenger seat and he’s trying to feel you up. “Billy’s girlfriend lets him fuck her all the time,” he gripes when you swat his hand from your thigh.

“Then maybe go fuck Billy’s girlfriend,” you shoot back. 

It’s the last thing you’d ever said to him before storming off and catching the late bus back home. He went missing the next day; his car still there, but no sign of the boy himself.

Vecna shows you everything you’d been making yourself sick over for years, tells you exactly what happened to him that night.

A demogorgon appears in thin air and snatches the boy, takes him to the Upside Down like he’s some kind of light night snack. The thing doesn’t eat him, though, just plays with its food for a while until it gets bored and lets him rot. Brad was down there, for days, beggingfor someone to save him. Help never came, though. Just the slow, slow hand of death. 

“You never even looked for him…” you recite the words Vecna said to you, voice much softer than his cruel baritone one. “You let him rot down there while you threw yourself at a boy that didn’t even want you…”

Steve eyes squeeze shut then, like he’s trying to hide from your words. It’s about as effective as those idiots in horror movies who try to hide under their bedsheets from demons.

You sought refuge in Steve that night and many others, when Brad was acting especially douchebag-y. It was innocent at first. He was your friend. But somewhere down the line, you realized that you had bigger feelings for him than you ever did for your boyfriend. Steve, meanwhile, was still caught in the web of his complicated feelings for Nancy.

It wasn’t until you got kidnapped by Russian soldiers that he realized how much he loved you.

There’s just something about the end of the world that makes a person see clearly again.

Everything seems to hit him exactly a week later. 

He’d done a pretty good job at hiding it all — the nightmares, the panic attacks, the sleepless nights. He hid that all from you because you were recovering too. He didn’t think it was fair to dump all his hurt on you while you were still trying to get back to normal.

You noticed it very quickly, though, that Steve didn’t seem to be very affected by any of it. 

He was so nonchalant about everything, the kind of casual only a person who was aching could pull off. 

And he’d get real reserved at times, uncharacteristically quiet, and you’d ask him if he was okay. He’d scoffed and say he was fine —of course I’m okay, what do you mean? — while his cheek speckled with red and he blinked back glassy tears. 

You’d try to hug him and he’d let you, but kept shrugging off your concern — I’m fine, babe. I promise. I’m not the one who almost died.

Steve did that a lot. Made it seem like his problems didn’t mean as much because they weren’t as big as yours or Max’s or Eddie’s. He convinced himself that they didn’t. Why should he be upset when he didn’t have to meet the monster face to face or live through something traumatic all over again? What does he have to cry about?

But when he sleeps all he sees in you — in that spot at Lover’s Lake, succumbing to Vecna’s curse, while the rest of them try like hell to bring you back. In his nightmares, they never do. He watches your bones break one by one, piercing cracks in the quiet night that he can feel in his chest, before you fall limply to the ground again.

He wakes with a gasping breath, the same way you had all the time ago. You’re sleeping peacefully beside him, hair wild and face smushed into your pillow, but he can’t seem to get the vision out of his head — of your mangled body and sucked-out sockets. He stumbles off to the bathroom on tired and trembling legs.

You wake to the door slamming shut and stir at the sound of the faucet turning on. 

Light spills from the crack underneath the door, bright in the darkness of your bedroom. You watch Steve’s shadow with bleary eyes, how it stands in one place for a moment and then paces back and forth.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you tiptoe to the door, but don’t do anything when you reach it. You just wait, listen. 

Steve mumbles something to himself that you can’t quite make out — you’re okay, stop being such a baby, jesus… is all you can hear. He sniffles as his feet pad the length of the tiled bathroom floor. It doesn’t take a genius to know that he’s crying.

Your knock upon the door is a soft one. You don’t want to startle him. The second he realizes you’re outside the door, he freezes.

“Stevie…” you call gently out for him. “Are you okay?”

He clears his throat. “Yeah—” Then again. “Yeah, I’m fine… Go back to bed.”

“Are you sure?” you press. “Do you want me to get anything for you?”

The boy has to take a deep breath in to stop himself from snapping at you. He’s angry at himself more than anything — for hiding, for failing at hiding. He runs two anxious hands through his hair and plants himself along the ceramic edge of the bathtub. 

“I’m sure. Just… Just go back to bed, okay?”

You don’t listen. You just slide along the door frame until you’re sat on the carpeted floor of your bedroom. Steve can hear your shuffling outside.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay. You know that, right?” you ask him through the door.

Steve puts his face in his hands before he can catch his scrunching face in the mirror. Just when he thought he wasn’t going to cry, here you come, pulling this shit. 

“I know,” he answers tightly, muffled through his palms. He rubs them up and down his face once, twice, and then a third time before throwing his hands into his lap. “But I’m fine, okay? Seriously.”

“You can cry in front of me, Steve. It’s okay. You don’t have to— You don’t have to go through this shit alone, you know? I’m here. I’m right here, okay? Let me help you.”

It’s that reminder that does him in; the assurance that you’re here and not a disfigured mess in the tall grass of Lover’s Lake. A sob spills from his mouth too abruptly for him to stop it.

“Steve…” you call for him again, heartbreaking on the other side of the door.

“I’m almost lost you,” he cries, more than himself than to you, then sniffles. “I’m almost fucking lost you.”

“But you didn’t. I’m still here. And I’m not going anywhere, Steve Harrington. The universe is gonna have to try a whole lot harder to keep me away from you.”

He manages a laugh through his tears. “It’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking,” you quip. “If Vecna couldn’t stop me from being with you, nothing will.”

The thought of that warms him. He realizes it’s not the universe keeping the two of you together, not fate or some higher power in the clouds. It’s love. It’s all the love the two of you have got for each other, stronger than any demogorgon or Russian soldier or dark wizard. And it’s love that’s gonna hold the two of you together for the next several decades, until you’re old and wrinkly and ugly. 

But Steve won’t think you’re ugly. He’ll think you’re as beautiful as the first moment he saw you — throwing up in the bushes outside Tina’s house after your first high school party.

You rise quickly when the door opens. Steve stands in front of you, eyes puffy and face red and smiling gently down at you anyway. “I love the shit outta you, you know that?” is all he can think to say. Because that’s all that he feels in that moment.

“Of course, I know that,” you grin up at him. Your hands rise to cup his jaw, thumbs swiping at his tear-stained cheeks. Your browns pinch in concern. “You okay?”

For the first time, he’s honest.

“No…” he murmurs with the soft shake of his head. His eyes dart away from yours and to the floor where his and your twenty toes stand, still on the ground, not floating in thin air.

“No— I… I don’t think I am,” he confesses softly. His tired, sad, and heavy honey eyes flit back up to yours again. “But I will be.”

You nod until your words catch up to you. “Yeah. Yeah, you will.”

“If only out of pure spite of all the monsters to all the monsters trying to destroy our lives.”

“They’re gone now,” you promise, like a parent who’s checked under their child’s bed for shadows and ghosts. It works well enough. Here, with his face in your hands and standing in your shared bedroom, he’s never felt safer.

“Can you… Can you hold me?” he wonders, a little meekly because he feels like an idiot saying them. Then he feels even more like an idiot for feeling like an idiot. You’re his girlfriend, after all, cuddles sort of came with the package.

“Of course,” you answer without thinking twice. You grab his hand and tug him back to the bed almost immediately. “I’ll hold you for the rest of our fucking lives, Harrington, you know that.”

The two of you settle into the mattress. Steve uses you like a pillow, wraps all of his limbs around you and tucks his face into your neck. Your scent is a familiar one, warm and comforting, like home. “I like the sound of that,” he mumbles into your shoulder after a moment of quiet.

“Well, buckle in, baby. ‘Cause I got you for the next, like, six decades.”

You feel his smile form against your skin as Steve tucks himself inside your soul.

[lovelytsunoda]

kiss me down by the broken treehouse // mick schumacher

summary: honeymoons in the midwest, heart shaped jacuzzis and scented bubble bath. this is how mick wants the rest of his life to be

pairing: mick schumacher x newlywed reader!

warnings: vague allusions to sex, two people being sickeningly in love, bathing together. nicolas cage should be a warning in itself

author's note: this is the last fic in the cozy collection and not gonna lie, it's making me very emotional. thank you for coming along for this cozy and warm, and sometimes scandalous adventure <3. i can't wait to share the christmas collection with you all.

the hotel suite was dim as she slipped the rose gold wedding band off her finger, dropping it on the dresser next to the almost identical one her husband wore.

mick was sitting by the window, lighting a tangle of scented candles as the heart-shaped jacuzzi tub filled with bubble bath.

"baby, what's all this?" she asked softly, leaning down to kiss him.

they had spent the day in town, visiting country stores and hiking trails, downing more apple cider than mick had ever thought possible. they were cold to the bone when they returned to the hotel, but that didn't stop mick from pulling his wife into bed and reminding her just how happy he was to spend the rest of their lives together.

"just another way to show how much i love you." mick hummed, reaching for the bottle of champagne he'd had room service deliver on their way back to the bed and breakfast. "i figured the best way to end the night was a nice bubble bath and a movie."

she smiled, giggling as she kissed the side of his head. "i knew there was a reason i married you."

she disentangled herself from mick, slender fingers making quick work of the belt holding her plush hotel robe together, fabric pooling over the floor and revealing her naked body to her lover.

blushing furiously, mick turned off the tap, quickly filling two champagne flutes before stripping out of his own hotel robe.

“after you, my darling wife.” he grinned, taking y/ns hand and helping her into the tub. he slipped under the bubbles after her, nuzzling into her back and pressing a kiss to her shoulder blade. “ich liebe dich.”

“I love you too, mickie.”

she settled on one of the built in tub seats, smiling at her husband before she looked dreamily out the frost covered window. the trees in the vermont woods next to the hotel were dyed shades of red-orange, the colors themselves beyond breathtaking.

“whatcha starin’ at, pretty girl?” mick pondered, kissing the top of her head as he settled in next to her.

“the trees. nature. it’s beautiful. how did you manage to get a room with such a great view?”

mick shrugged. “turns out, telling the hotel you’re on your honeymoon gets you special privileges. but that view isn’t as a great as the one I had earlier when I was on top of you. or the view I have every morning when I wake up with you in my arms.”

she giggled, playfully slapping his shoulder. "mickie!"

mick laughed, kissing the side of her head before reaching for the laptop next to the tub. "how do you feel about the nicolas cage dracula movie?"

"absolutley not! when i get nightmares, are you going to nurse me back to sleep?"

"yes." mick said solemnly, loading up amazon prime on his laptop. "one hundred percent."

y/n snickered, reaching for the champagne. once mick schumacher was alseep, not even a tornado could wake him up. "babe, we both know you'd sleep right through. you sleep like a goddamn rock."

"yeah, babe. you're right. but nicolas cage is in it, it wont be that scary."

“I’m not worried about it being scary; I’m worried about it being gory.” she rolled her eyes, taking a sip of champagne. “if I start watching ‘renfield’ through my fingertips, you’re on your own, mickie.”

mick giggled, hitting the play button before pulling his wife into his lap. “consider me warned. we can watch the original halloween afterwards.”

“you’ve got yourself a deal, husband.” she laughed, passing him a champagne flute.

the room was small and cozy, lit only by the blue glow from micks laptop and the candles around the bath, the air filled with the calming scents of vanilla, cinnamon and pumpkin. micks gentle fingers trailed up and down her thigh as they watched the movie together, sipping champagne and enjoying each others company.

every so often, mick filled the silence with a small praise, a gentle kiss against his wife’s skin. it was still so surreal to him that he would get to hold her in his arms, every day, for the rest of his life.

she rested her head on his shoulder, placing the empty glass back on the ledge outside the tub before she properly folded her body against his, fingertips mindlessly tracing shapes on his chest, the fine blonde hairs dotting his pecs matted to his skin by the water, a few errant bubbles still stark against his skin.

she loved him, truly madly and deeply.

it seemed like just yesterday they had met each other, although it had been almost four years. four great years of love and laughter and highs and lows. and in a blink of an eye, there she was, in her white dress, in micks arms as they danced to a bryan adams song.

four years of feelings she wasn’t sure she’d ever have the joy of feeling for another living, breathing person. and she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

when the movie was half over, candle wax dripping into hardwood and the bubbles all faded away from the lukewarm water, skin dried out and pruny, only then did the newlyweds emerge from the heart-shaped tub.

micks touch was gentle as he helped his wife dress in her long, pale nightdress, silk dusting the carpet as she pulled down the handmade quilt, ready to fold herself into bed next to her husband.

he slipped into bed next to her, laying the laptop down in front of them. his fingers played with her hair, twirling strands around her finger before he began to lazily braid a small section, the last half of the movie playing on the small screen.

“mick?”

“yeah?”

“I’m so excited to spend my future with you.”

“me too, Liebling.” he smiled, kissing her forehead. “we’ve got so much to look forward to.”

BONUS

y/nschumacher ❤️🍂

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @diorleclerc @userlando @thatsdemko @oconso @sidcrosbyspuck @cartierre

[tnbc-thoughtsandheadcanons]

Hello. Do you have any headcanons on how the Halloween Town Band would interact with the 4-5 skeleton children? (I personally think it would be sweet if the band babysat for the kids and encouraged them to play their own music) Would love to hear what you think! :)

Ahhh! Thank you, anon, I've been DYING to talk about this!!

I think the Skellington children get their musical talent from Jack and Sally, who can sing! But their main inspiration came from seeing the Halloween Town Band play. In my HC, they watched them playing before they had the courage to pick up instruments themselves. Naturally, they asked the Band to teach them music!

They even set up routine lessons to teach them(supported by Jack and Sally). They help them rehearse, tune their instruments, etc.! It might be a weekly thing, for the Band to come by and teach the Skellington kids! (Like you said, they could also be babysitters, who spend the time instructing them.)

When the children start their own band, I imagine they modelled it off of the Halloween Town Band and asked for their advice/help through the process. They practically idolize them and learned everything they knew from them! They're happy to answer the kids' questions and encourage their music in return!

[dilfhos]

THE FAN.

#!WHO GOJO SATORU & GETOU SUGURU

#!CC: threesome, reluctance if ya squint, o.sex (G&R), riding & backshots, eiffel tower, rockstar/band au, GOJO plays with your ass

wc.5.6k | KINKTOBER ‘23 | if u can, plz reblog. im trying to get more traction frankly and would love my fics to reach a wide audience fr. as always, minors plz don’t interact w/me.

NETWORKS @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @planetonet

@scariusaquarius tysm for beta-ing, your soundboard and squeals of excitement mean a whole lot sugar hehe ♡

Are you a fan of the band EYES OF DEATH? Well they’re in town for Halloween! Ten songs! One night with Hunk Gojo as lead singer and the illustrious Suguru playing lead bass. Come down to the Shadowvale Coliseum to see them in action, you may be lucky to win backstage access!

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately.

The sound of screaming coming from (mostly) women caused a ringing in your ears. But it wasn’t much of an inconvenience because you were screaming right along with them. Your eyes zeroed in on the lead, heart stammering at the fact that you were actually here, in person before your favorite band. Your favorite idol.

Gojo Satoru.

This time you didn’t have to gush over him in the new issue of Kaisen Times magazine, or smile when you see the million posters hanging up in the walls of your bedroom. He was literally feet from you as you were blessed to have stage side seats. He was definitely sexier up close. His messy white locks whipped with every nod of his head, as his slightly sweaty face was mostly framed by stray strands of silver.

You wish you could see his eyes but they were hidden by his signature frames which didn’t make you feel too bad. You watched as his hand came down hard to deliver one final riff. The crowd went wild as did you. He rocked back on his heels, a genuine wide smile gracing his features as he scanned his fans. When he turned in your direction, you could've sworn he was looking directly at you as his gaze seemed to remain on you for a few seconds longer. While you thought it was silly, a part of you hoped he was and your heart sped up at the thought.

His smile seemed to almost widen though as he then gripped the mic.

“How about another one? Why don’t you let me hear your lovely voices one more time?” He cupped a hand to his ear, nodding as the crowd, you included, began to scream again.

“That’s what I like to hear!” He turned back to his band mates, whispering to the one closest to him which you immediately recognized as Suguru. His dark and typically flowing locks were tied back into a messy bun, a few pieces slicking to the sides of his neck. He muttered something back to the other band mates and Gojo returned to the microphone, his mouth open in a wide smile,

“You ready?” He purred.

Everyone screamed yes! and as he counted off, the building was drowned once more in an electrifying riff of another one of his songs.

…

By the end of his concert, his shirt was drenched with sweat as he spent the rest of his energy jumping around on stage.

As he bid a goodbye to the crowd, you met his gaze. Or so you thought. You just knew he looked in your direction once more before whispering something to his bandmate, Suguru, who gave you a quick look over before disappearing behind the curtain.

You remained there, looking at the very spot he stood, wishing that he was still there. You clutched a rolled up paper to your chest, your grip tightening when someone bumped into you from behind.

It was silly but you had hoped you would’ve caught him before he left to sign it. Sure the image was a couple years old but it was your favorite and with his scribbled signature in the corner of it, you knew it’d finally be perfect.

But what you also knew was how wild his concerts ended. Groupies typically tried to sneak their way back only to be stopped by heightened security. You’ve heard rumors of some succeeding and bragging that Gojo and the band definitely made their nights.

With a sigh, you turned, watching the crowd slowly grow smaller as sweaty and exhausted bodies trickled out the exits. A headache was forming and even though you didn’t get your autograph, you were still content with seeing your favorite rock idol perform. But now, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. Maybe encounter him in your dreams as you’d done in the past.

You were trudging along with the crowd when you heard a low, ‘psst’.

You wouldn’t have paid much attention to it if it had only happened once. But when it was heard again, this time a bit more persistent, you whipped your head around only to be met with nameless faces of the crowd.

But then you heard, “Here.”

Off to the side was a man in a black leather jacket with a cap on his head. You wanted to ignore him and keep following the crowd to the exits but something about his demeanor seemed familiar. You hesitantly broke away from the horde and ducked off to the side, accidentally tripping into his chest.

“Careful darlin’” You gasped softly at his voice, recognizing it to sound like…

The man pulled you further onto the side wing, and away from the crowd until reaching a corridor. He pulled his hat back, allowing raven locks to fall around his face.

“M-Mister Suguru?”

“Getou,”He glanced down at your arms crossed over your chest, holding something rolled. He glanced back up at your face which was lit up almost innocently at the fact that you were standing in front of a member of your favorite band. He smirked. How cute.

“Poster?” He asked, turning on his heels sharply. He didn’t give a warning or any explanation, he just began walking down the hallway, silently expecting you to follow. You stuttered before your feet moved, trying to catch up to his brisk pace.

“U-Uh yeah...I um…I wanted Gojo’s autograph.”

“And not mine?” He turned his head, a smile playing loosely at his lips. His gaze made you avert yours as your face swarmed with heat. You were mainly focused on the fact that you were actually inches from him, following him and talking to him. He wasn’t Gojo Satoru sure, but Getou Suguru was just as great a musician. And an even sexier man.

You passed by a few other band members and technician crew and a part of you felt a bit nervous.

“A-Are you sure I should be back here?” You asked him after a moment of silence. He only shoved his hands into his pocket without acknowledging your question as he continued to make his way down the darkening hallway. Something about this felt a bit off but you didn’t give into your trepidation. Instead you continued to trudge nervously behind him. Still, you placed your hand into your coat pocket to feel for your phone.

After another moment or so, he rounded a corner until stopping in front of the door at the end of the hall. From behind him, you could see the name, GOJO SATORU & EYES OF DEATH ☆ in bold, white script, centered in the middle of a large star. Your stomach flipped as you read his name over and over again. Was this actually real?

“You want to meet him right?” He could practically hear you nodding excitedly before sighing. A soft rap from a knuckles later and you heard Gojo’s voice from the other end asking who it was.

“Getou,” Was what he responded with before turning the door knob. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter, and you did so, your eyes remaining on your boot clad feet. After hearing the door shut behind you however, the sound sealing you into your fate, you looked up.

The first thing you noticed was the man sitting across the room, cross-legged on the floor. In his arms was a guitar, not the bass he rocked to during the concert. Slender fingers strummed against the strings, the notes melancholic and unfamiliar. The tune carried throughout the space accompanying the soft humming you heard from him.

Gojo glanced up only briefly, a smirk on his features as you nervously made your way further into the large dressing room. He let out a few more notes, this time save for his humming.

“Erm…” You glanced back toward Suguru. What were you supposed to do? Or say? Your mind ran a mile a minute contemplating what your next choice of words would be. You couldn’t believe that you were here standing in the very dressing room of your rock idol, the Gojo Satoru and you didn't want to screw up your first impression with something stupid.

You heard shuffling from in front of you and turned to see that he was standing. Placing the guitar against the wall, he then stretched, the position drawing up his t-shirt in the process. You couldn’t keep your eyes from falling to the distinctive toning of his waist and abdomen as they flashed before you. After you heard a chuckle, you looked away, hoping that he didn’t catch your staring.

“You a fan?” His voice was like velvet, soft and alluring and even more sexier than it was when he was singing on stage. A wide smile followed his question, drawing your attention to the dazzling rows of pearly whites. A few seconds later is when you collected yourself, eyes roaming back up to his that were hidden behind his shades.

“Y-Yeah,” You start carefully, heart strumming wildly in your chest.

“A-A big fan actually! I’ve been a fan for years and have come to every single concert.” Okay, so maybe you didn’t need to disclose that last part. Gojo only smiled warmly.

“Oh yeah? And what’s your favorite track?” He leaned down in front of the vanity, inspecting something on his face. You took a moment to mentally dig through what you knew of his discography. He had plenty of amazing songs, all of which touched you one way or another.

“I would have to say...Blindfolds,” He let out a surprised noise as he turned to look at you. He was quite surprised by your response. He felt that track wasn’t his best after it was published and honestly, paid no further worry about it.

He expected you to favorite one of his more popular tracks, one of which he always heard his fans request that he sing.

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you felt heat prickling at your skin.

“I-I just really like the way it speaks to me. And your use of the clever metaphors within the lyrics give it a much greater meaning than what it was meant to be. And even though it was made clear that the song was about everyone in a way, I couldn't help but wonder whether or not…” He cocked his head, hidden, blue eyes glinting as he nodded for you to go on.

“W-Whether or not if it was really about you.” Silence enveloped the space and every second you remained under it, nervousness crept in bit by bit. Perhaps you said too much. Here was one of the top rock stars standing in front of you, listening as you picked apart one of his songs.

“I-I’m sorry if I over-” He interrupted you with laughter. It wasn’t cruel or mocking, but genuine. And coming from him, it was music to your heated ears. He moved toward you, his sudden movement causing you to stagger back some.

“Look kid, I appreciate your dedication but I think you’re reading too much into it,” He gave a small friendly ruffle to the top of your head, and you bit back a squeal. He touched you.

“She’s real cute,” He remarked behind you, toward the other man, who you honestly forgot was even still here.

“I knew you’d think so. But how about we move things along? The manager has been calling my phone like crazy wondering where you’ve run off to this time.”

“Right,” He turned back towards you, a toothy grin present on his features. His eyes then ventured down to what you were still cradling in your arms.

“What’s this?” He pointed. You glanced down at the rolled poster, your face warming immediately.

“I had wanted an autograph,” You stuttered, voice barely audible.

“S‘at so?” You nodded. He held his hand out and you hesitantly placed it. You watched as he unrolled it and the way his brows shut up in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” You were quick to question, craning your neck to what he was seeing. Oh God, did you spill something on it? Did you accidentally grab the wrong poster from your wall? Like the one with old childish writing on it with, My husband! If that was the case then you weren’t sure what you’d-

“Just surprised is all. This was actually my favorite photoshoot. Guru, you remember that one?” He turned the poster around so his friend could see. Suguru chuckled at the sight, a part of him thinking that it was only his favorite because he ended up seducing the photographer. Gojo turned, moving back to his vanity. From the plethora of makeup brushes, his fingers closed around a dark sharpie. You couldn’t see what he was scribbling as you craned your neck, but it sounded like more than just his name. With a smile, he recapped the marker and held the poster out as if to admire his penmanship and rolled it back up.

He then held it out to you and right when you were about to grab it, he pulled it away.

“You know, you’re real cute,” He muttered, a finger reaching under your chin. “And you’re my biggest fan, you said?”

He was so close, so much that you could smell the subtleness of mint and beer. You were immediately drawn in, your eyes fluttering down to the sight of his kissable lips, which were parted slightly. He nudged your chin up to refocus your attention. What was the question again?

“Y-Yes?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” He teased.

“Yes, I’m your biggest fan.” You whisper. Sitting down your rolled poster, he took off his shades, revealing a pair of lustfully blown blue eyes. Brighter than any lake during sunrise. You could get lost in them forever and it was no longer a surprise why he wore his shades all the time.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his heavy gaze, which was just as well because before you could register anything, his lips were on yours, soft and tentative. It took you a second before you began to move your lips in sync with his.

He groaned against your mouth, deepening the exchange with a suggestive swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip. Parting your lips, his tongue shoved through, wild as it thrashed against your own.

Gojo explored your mouth, taking in the way you practically melted against him. He began to walk you backwards until your knees met the back of the couch. He pulled away to watch you stumble onto its surface, panting and flustered from the kiss.

He straightened to shrug out his coat before leaning back down to recapture your lips in another heated embrace. His hands trailed down your body, paying attention to where to press and grope that caused you to whimper. He loved the sound. The sweet, sweet gasps of women beneath his touch could top any riff he played.

Eventually, his lips moved away to press open mouth kisses to the side of your jaw and neck, every now and then sucking marks into your skin. His hand pushed under your shirt, dragging the garment oup in the process until he broke away to pull it off you.

“You’re so fucking hot babe,” He muttered, cerulean eyes trailed over your body, over the hot and bothered state you were in. Gojo’s hands smoothed over your neck, trailing down to your bra-covered breasts, until stopping at the hem of your skirt. You nodded before he shoved them up your waist, hips lifting up slightly for him push them up further until it was bunched around your tummy to reveal your cute panties. He looked down, grinning at the sight of the cotton material pressed snugly against your crotch.

“Cute,” He murmured. Instinctively, you tried closing your legs, bashful at his heavy gaze and comment but he shifted down until he was on his knees, in between them.

“No need to be shy,” His voice was so compelling; you slowly relaxed, your eyes never leaving his as Gojo’s fingers curled into the waistband of your panties. Your legs tightened against each other but with an almost warning glance cast upward from his eyes, they relaxed and he proceeded to slide them down with more ease.

“That’s it. So fucking beautiful…” He tugged them against your ankles, before they were placed on the small coffee table. He moved his eyes down to the sight in between your legs, inspecting the glisten coating your puffy lips.

Seconds later, you arched your back at the sensation of his hot tongue pressing flat against your slit, as he dragged the surface of it up and down in slow and deliberate movements. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he delved in deeper, maneuvering the appendage past your slick folds and into your hole, flicking and dipping between your plush walls. His fingers then replace his tongue, curling and stretching against your insides. His lips moved to your clit where he suckled and nipped gently, drawing out a unintentionally loud moan from you.

His fingers sped up, creating a wet squelch with every thrust into your cunt. Gasping, your fingers dug into the material of the couch as you found yourself getting lost in the pleasure he created.

Suguru, seeming to have come from nowhere, then moved beside you, gripping your chin to lift your head up in his direction. Despite your hesitance, he managed to press his lips against yours roughly. After a moment you began to give in, allowing his feverish tongue to slip past your lips and into your mouth, the exchange heated between lips and teeth. He grew harder in his pants to the feel of your lips and at the sound of his friend slurping away at your cunt.

A hand crept down to your clit, taking the place of Gojo’s fingers as he began to press tight circles against the area. Your hips bucked off of the couch and against Gojo’s face, smothering him against your pussy. He released a prolonged groan at the sight of the exchange happening between you and the two men.

Pulling away, the male licked away a trail of saliva from your lips before dipping a bit lower to lick and suck against your neck.

“Suguru,” You whimpered.

“Getou,” He corrected against your skin, trailing his lips down to your breasts. His calloused hands roughly kneaded each mound. His teeth teased at your nipples, grinding gently on the hardening buds before tugging softly to release with a soft pop. Just as he pulled away, a ringing sounded throughout the space.

“Dammit,” He muttered, bringing out his phone. Gojo pulled away from your pussy, his mouth soaked in your juices as he looked up at the brunette.

‘Manager’ He mouthed, moving towards the door.

“What? Yes…” The door shut behind him, leaving you and the lead singer alone in the dressing room.

He stood, pulling off his shirt, your eyes immediately dropping to his skin. You watched with rapt focus as he then plopped down a foot or so away from you.

“Come over here,” He instructed, throwing his arms across the back of the couch. You moved closer to him, your pussy clenching in need.

Slender fingers wrapped against the nape of your neck pulling you closer toward him. His lips smashed against yours, as he wasted no time in shoving his tongue past your lips. A moan was muffled from your mouth as his grip tightened in your hair to pull you closer, the taste of your essence melting on your tongue.

He pulled away to give another soft tug at your roots, urging your head up at an angle. His lips lowered to bite and suckle marks into your skin, partly in hope to cover his friend’s. When he pulled away, his eyelids were heavy over his lust filled eyes as they ran over your face and down your body.

“You’re still my biggest fan?” A few beats passed before you nodded, eliciting a soft smile to form on his face. He then moved to undo his belt, shoving his dark jeans down to reveal his dark boxers. Through the material, you could see that he was very much excited.

“Show me then.” He urged, shifting into a more lax position with his legs spread wide open.

You swallowed thickly before partially positioning yourself over his lap, level with the prominent bulge. Your eyes the subtle trail of white that lined his abdomen and disappeared into his boxers.

With shaky hands, you moved to curl your fingers around the rim of them and pulled them down enough for his thick cock to spring free, hard and long as it kissed his abdomen. You could then feel his hand pressed up against the back of your head, urging you down toward his dick.

“Good. Now open your mouth.” He cooed. You did so, closing your eyes at what was to come.

“Wider,” He muttered, heatedly. It took a bit of effort as you felt the warmth of his cock moving past your lips. Your head lowered until the heaviness of his cock pressed against your tongue.

“Yeah, like that.” He sighed, hips hitching against your mouth. His dick was thick on your tongue and you could taste more and more saltiness melting on your tastebuds.

“Fuck, your teeth babe...Watch your teeth.” He groaned, nails digging into your scalp. You sputtered around his shaft, sending spittles of drool to drip from the corners of your mouth. Your jaw ached from the stretch as he continued to urge your head down and up against his cock. In the midst of it all, you heard the soft creak of the door opening and closing.

“I see you’ve gotten started already,” Suguru’s low hum broke the sound of your unadulterated slurping. You opened your eyes to see the dark pair of shoes a few feet away, unmoving.

“The—fuck—The manager?” Gojo asked, almost breathlessly.

“I got’er off our backs for at least an hour. Told her you wanted to rest.”

“Good. That bitch needs to learn patience anyway,” You released an unintentional moan at his harsh words, finding them to be almost uncharacteristic for the male. Your eyes closed again as you tried to focus on the task at hand as Gojo’s eyes narrowed, staring down at the sight below.

He then connected his gaze with his friend before a wide grin stretched across his face.

“She’s real good. Damn, it feels amazing.” Stomach fluttering, you moved your mouth down lower, taking another inch as you sucked in your cheeks to provide more of a suction. The change in your movements took the male by surprise because he released a strangled groan, in the process, shoving you down further, making you gag and choke around his girth. Sweat beaded along Gojo’s skin as you continued to suck him off, white strands of his hair sticking against the sides of his face.

From behind you, the feeling of the couch sinking with more weight didn’t go unnoticed. Seconds later you felt a warm hand brushing against your ass, running soothing circles against the flesh.

Suguru’s hands moved to creep to your waist, pulling away at the waistband of your skirt which was bunched around the area. You were now completely bare before both men and couldn’t help the pathetic sounding whimper that arose at the notion.

“What a good little fan. You know, you’re really doin’ me a service,” Satoru chuckled. In his words, you felt a sudden surge of validation course through you. The way he spoke to you caused a fluttering in your tummy.

At the end of the day it seemed like you just wanted to please him, your idol. When he said things about how good you were making him feel, well it caused something else to stir within you, flourishing before you could have the time to force it back.

Suguru noticed the way your thighs clenched together but it was different this time. His fingers sought out your warmth and was happy to find you practically dripping.

“I think she’s loving it,” You heard him purr as he continued to run his digits along your slit. You didn’t deny it but you wished that you hadn’t looked up into Gojo’s eyes.

He groaned at the look you gave him through your lashes. As much as he wanted this moment to last longer, he knew he needed to pull away before he busted in your mouth. He needed to save himself for the main event and that was having you crying and cumming all over his cock as he fucked you. You felt a tug on your hair as you were pulled away.

“Stand up.” You rose shakily to your feet, watching as Gojo shoved his boxers away completely as Suguru was next to you, discarding his own clothing wordlessly. Gojo shifted back onto the couch, a knee pressed onto one of the cushions and his other foot planted firmly on the floor.

“Here.” Without further protest, you moved in front of him on your hands and knees, your pussy aching for attention. Which you knew he was happy to give as you felt the swollen head of his cock teasing against your folds. His breath fanned your ear from behind as he continued to slick his cock between your lips.

You’re so wet, providing his still glistening cock with enough lubrication to push through with little resistance. You groaned at the stretch, nails digging crescents into your palm. He inched his way in, slow and deliberate for every vein to drag pleasurably against your walls. His grip on your hips tightened once he was fully seated, his pelvis flush against your plush ass.

He took a moment to gather himself before pulling out partly and thrusting in once more, ripping out a strangled cry from your throat. Tears brimmed your outer vision as he then thrusted back in, harsh and more rougher than before. His knee buckled a bit in the act causing him to lean against you as he found his ground once more.

“Fuck!” He gritted as his cock throbbed within your tightness. After a few more experimental strokes, he found his rhythm, as ironic as it seemed for the guy. He continued to grunt as his pelvis continued to slam against your ass, his cock plunging deep into your pussy. Your head lolled forward, your noises becoming louder as pleasure surged through your body.

You then feel fingers entangling in your roots as your head was tilted upwards to meet the dark eyes of Suguru. He was mere inches from you, his hand fisting languidly at his cock. His thumb swiped the bead of arousal that accumulated at the slit and you couldn’t keep yourself from licking your lips at the bothered state he seemed to be in.

“Do me a favor,” Gojo huffed from behind. Without further instruction, your mouth opened and Suguru moved forward, his cock breaching your lips to rest heavy on your tongue. You tried to work it along the length of his shaft as you bobbed your head along but with the rate of Gojo’s thrusts against you, it was a bit difficult.

Suguru noticed this and adjusted his body so that he also had a knee braced against the cushion. His hands moved to the sides of your head, stilling you as his hips surged forward in shallow movements.

“That’s it darlin,” He said softly, his eyes rolling slightly. “Be a good little fan and take it nice and deep.”

After trying to keep up some more, you eventually stilled completely— slack jawed, tongue lolled out, allowing the male to use your mouth as he pleased. Drool seeped down in thick strands at the corners as he continued to thrust into your wet hole, inching himself deeper and deeper.

You suddenly gag at the feel of a hand striking against your ass. Gojo watched as you arched your back at the sting it brought, a dark grin gracing his features as you tightened around him.

“Fuck...You like that?” Another blow was delivered as another wanton moan escaped you. His hands gripped both your ass cheeks, spreading them apart for a much clearer view of his slickened cock disappearing into your needy cunt. He eyed your tight, winking hole above that and ran his thumb along the rim, taking in the way your body practically rippled in excitement from the unfamiliar stimulation.

“I think you may be my favorite, love,” He mumbled more to himself. But you caught it and felt a new sense of pride in his words. You strained your ears for the way he sucked in his breath at your clenching walls until he leant down, hard chest pressed flush against your back.

“You like that? Being called my favorite?” You tried to nod your head the best you could with your mouth full.

“How about I bring you back after all my shows. You’ll be our little stress reliever, my little plaything I can use as I want. Fuck, I can tell you’re...Mmm, keen to the idea,” His hands pressed against your ass, spreading them apart once more as he thrusted in deeper inside of you.

You choked, pulling away from Suguru’s cock, mewling and completely overwhelmed with nothing but lust.

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately. At his purring words, you shuddered and tightened, lowering your head to release a choked cry. Your orgasm came sudden and intense, completely overtaking your senses as your legs felt like pudding.

Gojo chuckled breathlessly, taking note of how sensitive you were to his words. He paused briefly to let you ride out your release until he pulled out. Giving a nod to his friend, he gave your ass a final smack, watching your skin ripple upon contact.

Without giving much time to catch your breath, you felt fingers in your hair, pulling your head up until your eyes met those dark pair.

“Get up.” Suguru mumbled. You shakily rose to your feet, your legs buckling seconds after. Thankfully, Gojo caught you with a tight grip on your arm, and an amused smile stretching across his face.

Suguru settled back against the couch, his hand running along his slick cock. He gestured at you with a spin of his finger and you turned around before feeling his hands on your hips to pull you flush against his body.

He positioned your body above his lap, his hands supporting you with the grip on your hips as your feet were planted on either side of his thighs. You leaned back against his chest, shuddering at the feel of his cock teasing your pussy. He pressed his lips against your shoulders feverishly as you were then lowered.

You mewled as he breached your entrance, stretching you with his girth. Suguru groaned as he took a moment basking in the feel of your fluttering walls throbbing around him. You began to sink down onto him, with little guidance of his hands, your moans growing in pitch.

“How is she?”

“So...tight and hot,” Suguru groaned, nails digging into the meat of your thighs as his heated gaze met Gojo’s. He directed your attention to the space in front of you with his hand stroking his dick.

Knowing what he wanted without further instructions, you wiggled forward to take his cock into your hot mouth, immediately hollowing your cheeks tight. His fingers grasped at your sweaty roots, tightening when you bobbed your head lower until your nose was nearly touching his pelvic bone.

Behind you, Suguru was beginning to lose his composure, his hips snapping up hastily against your ass, driving his cock deeper into your pussy. You moaned aloud, the noise being muffled by the press of Gojo’s cock down your throat. You were drowning in your pleasure as you were being pushed closer and closer to unraveling.

“Such a good little fan…” You squeal at his words the same time Suguru delivers a deep thrust into your cunt. Your eyes clenched shut as that coil within you snapped, sending your body aflame with heat and pleasure. He growled at your fluttering cunt, his hips stuttering as he approached his own high. You were nudged off of him before you felt the heat of his cum splattering against your ass.

“A-Ah…Fuck!” At the sight of this, Gojo was at his own limit, his hands shaky as he held your head down against him, the entirety of his cock in your hot mouth. He gave a few shallow thrusts until he stilled and you felt the spurt of warmth hitting the back of your throat. He held you there a couple seconds later as he rode out his high, making you swallow his cum.

When he shakily pulled away, you coughed as whatever you didn’t go down, dripped onto your chin and chest. You were a mess, but honestly, Gojo couldn’t find anything more beautiful.

He brushed his thumb over your sweaty cheek before he straightened. You shifted until you were next to Suguru, who pulled you against his side. Gojo returned with your rolled poster in hand and two beers in the other.

“How ‘bout you stay for a bit longer hm? You can tell the manager we’ll be a while for the moment.” You took your poster and unrolled it, eyes zeroing on the bottom corner which, in his neat script read, To My Biggest Fan, GOJO ☆

Beneath it was a phone number and you felt your face warmed. Looking up, you saw that he was holding out the beer to you and you took it.

Suguru beside you had a hand running teasing against your slick thighs as Gojo couldn’t keep his eyes off you as more and more of your beer disappeared.

You were blissfully aware of your senses easing slightly as you started to come to the conclusion that this was the best concert you’d gone to.

@dilfhos. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE OR REUPLOAD MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

[medium-rare-bimbo]

Ping pong thoughts

♡masterlist♡

MINORS DNI

May contain dub con, dark! Characters, age gap, piss kink, crying generally dark content

༺*:ﾟ･✧･:*:ﾟ･♡ readmore ♡･ﾟ:*:･✧･ﾟ:*༻

♡ 001 x innocent nurse reader, 001 getting injured and having to clean him up just for him to complain that he has this horrible, terrible ache inbetween his legs :((( he needs you to kiss it better for him

♡ Eddie summoning a succubus by accident

♡ karen wheeler x babysitter reader

- you come over early and catch mrs wheeler during her yoga session somehow its lead to you being finger fucked during Holly's nap

♡ high sex with argyle!!!

♡ stalker! reader X eddie, reader becomes obsessed with eddie after seeing him and his band play at some dingy bar, soon slipping Polaroids of her naked body into his locker. Cornering him in the hellfire club while he cleans up and offering your holes to him how could he deny his #1 fan?

♡ baking your way into hoppers heart, hopper fucking his way into your guts

♡ going around hawkins getting yourself fucked and being filled with so much cum

♡ dark! Steve purposefully messing with your birth control

♡ robin spending hours finding all your sweet spots, becoming determined to know everything about your body

♡ billy stuffing you with a dildo and his cock after finding your precious toy hidden away in your underwear drawer

♡ being sprayed with sex pollen and getting fucked by 001, even riding him after he gets tired, you just want to cum

♡ Murray "accidentally" giving your sex tape to hopper

♡ piss kink with eddie !!!!!!! Making you hold your pee, peeing on him, peeing on his cock, peeing inside of you he thinks its wonderful <3

♡ dark! Eddie angrily fucking bully! Reader.

-after years of torment he gets you high and fucks you and doesnt pull out because what's more humiliating than being pregnant by the towns freak?

♡ working at the pizza place with argyle and getting fucked in the supply closet <3<3

♡ want mrs wheelers boobs in my mouth now !!!

♡ dads best friend! Hopper letting you stay at his cabin while your dad is away on business, he spoils you so well, letting you ride him in his chair

♡ dark! Jonathan taking pictures of you when you undress and blackmailing you with them <3

♡ going on a camping trip mean! Dark! Billy and his friends where he sneaks into your tent and fucks you while everyones sleeping, him pulling your hair and covering you mouth and nose when you make too much noise threatening to choke you out if you wake anyone up

♡ vampire eddie x succubus reader, trying to eat eachother only to end up breeding while covered in blood

♡ perv! X innocent! naive! reader • steve, billy and eddie making a bet on who can take your virginity first

♡ passing out mid sex with mean! Billy only for him to continue fucking you until you wake up

♡ dark! hopper handcuffing you and forcing you to let him fuck you

♡ robin and Nancy staying at your house for a sleep over soon finding your parents liquor and exploring eachothers bodies

♡ 001 somehow surving 011s attack then finding naive! Reader who let's him into her home, youd make such a good housewife for him

♡ steve x bestfriends mom! reader, steve gets a crush on you after seeing you pregnant soon igniting his need for seeing that image constantly

♡ billy x milf! Reader who let's him suck on her tits and call her mommy

♡ eddie dressing up as a priest for Halloween then fucking you behind the church

[heavenlyakin]

Illicit Affairs

Vampire!Atsumu Miya x Fem!Reader - MINORS DNI

cw: 18+, minors DNI, reader is a british socialite, monster-fucking, religious imagery and language (reader isn’t necessarily religious but mentions god and the devil in the Christian sense), vore (bloodsucking), atsumu picks reader up, she falls a lot so if that annoys you don’t read this, “whore” is used in a derogatory way, Atsumu has electricity bc obvs (vampire science is better), violence (beheading on page and murder mention), age gap (like obvs he’s a vampire), virginity loss, oral (f. and m. receiving), unprotected vaginal sex, general smut, and violence on page. 

wc: ~15k 

a/n: This is long. I’m sorry. However, I had the best time writing it, so maybe I’m not sorry. I would like to thank Kashi, Mimi, and Rue for all your time listening to me rant about this fic, reading it, giving me suggestions, and just being great friends to me. I hope you enjoy this short story! Happy Halloween! 

–

Outside London, October 1845. 

Right foot first. 

As the music blasts through the chapel from the band to your right, you realize you can’t breathe. You try to inhale, but it does nothing. Seeing Graham standing at the end of the aisle makes you wish you’d skipped tea. 

Left foot. 

Your eyes scan the room, looking for the blonde head of hair of the woman your future husband has been fucking on the side. She’s from a London brothel, but Graham has given her an apartment outside of town and an allowance to live on. 

Right foot. 

Graham smiles at you. 

Left foot. 

All the smiling faces make you want to scream. Your father's hold on your arm, the bouquet, and the dress all feel suffocating—the dress’s pretty sleeves lined with baby blue lace and thread might as well be handcuffs. 

Right foot. 

He’s only a few steps away now. You spot the blonde face you don’t immediately recognize, two rows from the front. He would allow her to sit that close? It’s embarrassing enough to have the bridesmaids gossiping about it while you were dressing, but to sit her so close… it hurts. 

Left foot. 

The music comes to its crescendo. You have to get out of here. 

Right foot. 

You have to get out of here. 

One last step. 

Graham smiles at you again, his teeth pearly white and perfect. His green eyes sparkle. His brown hair combed back with product making him look older. As the music dies down, your father whispers something to you, but you can’t hear it. 

The Priest steps forward, his lips moving, the cross dangling from the long chain on your neck swings from left to right. It gets hushed, everyone on the altar looking at you and your father too. 

Did they say something to you? 

“Apologies, can you repeat that?” You smile the best you can, and the Priest smiles back. 

“We just need you to step forward,” the Priest answers and you realize your father agreed to give you away to Graham. 

Your father had released his arm from yours, and you realize nothing is holding onto you anymore. You look to your father, his sweet supportive smile greeting you. Turning back to face Graham, you try to take a step forward, up onto the altar but your legs shake. 

You can’t do this. 

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper, dropping the beautiful bouquet to the ground. 

Turning, you feel your father's fingers on your dress sleeve, but you don’t give him time to grip on. You’re darting back down the aisle and out of the chapel. Your feet move faster than your mind, only able to think one thing. 

Please don’t fall or break a heel. Please don’t fall or break a heel. 

The chapel is on the outskirts of town, and running north of it takes you into the woods. You trip as you begin to climb the hill, your shoes catching on roots and debris. You push yourself off the ground, seeing your dress's hem is already caked in mud. Shaking your head, you ignore it and take off as fast as you can. The incline stops soon, and you’re fighting through the underbrush. 

The sun is setting, lighting everything in an orange glow as the fog begins to set in the forest. You’re still running, well, running would be a stretch. Your breathing is heavy and your lungs burn with each inhale. How long has it been since you took off from the chapel? The wedding began at 6, and with the sun setting you believe it’s nearing 7. 

How much distance can you put between you and them in an hour? 

You turn, looking back, and see only trees and brush. Even when you try to focus your eyes, you can’t see the lights from town. You must be at least a few miles into the forest now. You take off again, more at a speed walk than a run. Your legs are sore and your heels feel blistered in the heels you chose for this day. 

As you climb up another hill, you wonder what the fuck you’re doing. You could be off to your honeymoon now, two months traveling Europe and visiting castles and ruins. It would be warm in your rooms and only partly miserable, having to listen to Graham and suffering the consummation of the marriage. Not that you worried he’d be bad, but that you wouldn’t live up to what he's used to with that mistress of his. 

Graham isn’t friendly to be around alone, either. The few times you were left unsupervised he reminded you of the position you were in. Your mother ran off years ago, apparently with a sailor; ruining your family’s reputation, despite the wealth your father holds. Marrying him would restore your name, and he’d be the one to inherit your fortune since you are the only child of your father. 

He insulted you, a few times, but then smiled like he was saying something friendly. His kisses on your hand always lingered too long for your comfort. Something about him just made your skin crawl, honestly. The idea of spending the rest of your life with that man led you here to the woods. 

As you reach the top of the hill, it plateaus and the trees become more sparse, well if you can call it sparse. Looking around, the fog has entirely settled at the base of the trees and brush, making it hard to see. You slow down to a walk, letting yourself catch your breath as you go. You stumble on your dress and the fallen branches, making you fall on your face. Luckily, you caught yourself before your face took the brunt of it, but your right cheek does hit the ground. 

When you push yourself back up, you see a faint yellow glow across the way, through a few trees and bushes. You gather the skirts of your dress in your hands and make your way towards it, the chill in your body desperate for the hope of a fire. As you get close, you see the shadowy figure of a body, large and brooding. 

The light seems to be coming from a lantern, so you give up hope of getting warm anytime soon. You take a few more steps until you see what’s happening. The figure is digging a hole in the ground, a body lying beside the mound of dirt. As you step back, a twig snaps, and the figure turns towards you. 

You run again, getting a few feet away before you fall, your body hitting the ground with a thud. Unlike last time, you didn’t catch yourself. Your right ankle throbs and you worry you’ve broken it. As you turn to face away from the ground, the figure that was once yards away is now hovering over you. How did they get here so fast? It’s only been a few seconds. 

It’s a man, an extremely handsome man. His eyes glow gold, and it confuses you but something about it calms your nerves, even though you know you should be running. Yet, you’re frozen in place. 

He extends out his hand, and you see his nails are long, and sharpened to a point on the tips. “Are you in need of assistance, miss?” 

You nod your head, unable to make a sound. However, you still can’t move. Even if you took his hand, with your ankle throbbing the way it is, you’re certain you can’t walk. 

“Here, let me help you,” He leans down, and you notice something on his face. Is that blood or mud? In the light, you can’t tell. 

He picks you up, holding you bridal-style against his chest. His scent enthralls you, rose with a hint of mahogany. You inhale, the scent putting you at ease and your eyes flutter shut for a moment. 

This…, you think, this is what you’re supposed to feel on your wedding day. 

You shake the thought from your mind, opening your eyes and observing the man carrying you. His blonde hair falls over his forehead, his skin creamy smooth and almost glowing in the faint moonlight. 

“Who are you?” You find your voice. 

“Atsumu,” he answers. “Atsumu Miya.” 

You nod, looking forward and letting him carry you through the woods. You’re still well aware of the throbbing in your right ankle. “Where are you taking me?” 

“I live close by. You can rest there and clean up.” He says, still not looking at you. 

His eyes are focused on the forest ahead of him, and you wonder what close by means to him. It could be an hour if he considers that close. The sun has set now, and the only glow is from his eyes and the moon. He left the lantern back with the body… 

The body! He was burring a body! 

“Let me go!” You thrash against him and he holds you tighter, looking down at you with his eyebrows furrowed. “I said, let me go!” You yell this time. 

When your eyes meet his, something washes over you again and you begin to relax, no longer feeling the urge to fight. But… but… he was burying someone. A body! What was he doing back there? Why are you not fighting anymore? 

“Who was that back there? The body!” Even if you feel relaxed, you can still question him. 

Atsumu looks down at you, his face unreadable but his eyes giving that same intense look that he’s had on his face the whole time. 

“Nothing you should be concerned with.” He looks back ahead of you as he walks. 

The forest begins to open up, a clearing forming ahead. As you get closer, the frame of a large house… well, if you can call it a house. It looks more like a castle. The gates around the home open as Atsumu approaches, creaking as they go. The fog seems to have vanished, hiding out at the edge of the forest. 

Warm lights glow from inside the castle, and you wonder if running water is inside. In the last five years, running water has even been installed in the lower class homes, and with the amount of wealth, this castle shows… it must. A warm bath sounds so delightful now, you could almost beg for one. 

As if he’s read your mind he speaks, “I’ll have a bath drawn for you once we're inside.” 

You nod, looking up at him. He continues to look forward, but you see a vein bulging from his neck. Like something in him is straining. He seems to carry you just fine, so it can’t be you causing the strain. 

As the castle doors open, your eyes dart around to look everywhere. The entrance is grand, decorated in the latest fashion with dark wood, red rugs, and warm light glowing from every corner of the room. The staircase has a gothic feel, leading forward and then splitting to go left and right to the opposite wings of the castle. 

He carries you up the stairs that lead to the right wing of the castle, taking you down a long hall that curves as you go. A set of double doors open, as if he willed them to, and he sets you down on a forest green sofa. Your body relaxes into it, the soft cushions welcoming your sore bones. 

Atsumu brings the room to life with light, the chandelier lighting overhead. You admire the crystal work before looking around the bedroom. It’s larger than your father’s master bedroom in your estate back home. You watch as Atsumu sheds his cloak, lying it across a chaise near the four-poster bed. 

“Your bath should be ready, do you need assistance?” He asks, walking towards you and you shake your head. 

“I believe I can take it from here. Thank you,” you dismiss him. 

He doesn’t leave. He puts his hands behind him, stepping aside, so you can go through to what you assume is the bathing room. You stand, putting your weight on your left foot so you can try and make it to the bath. As you step on your right, you cry out in pain. You begin to fall, but strong arms catch you. 

“Stop being difficult, just let me assist you.” He growls, clearly frustrated with you now. 

He hooks his arms behind your body and lifts you again, taking you to the bathing room. There’s steam coming from the bathtub and your body aches for it. He sets you on a chair, his fingers moving to undo the buttons of your dress. You’re embarrassed, face heating more and more as his fingers lower on your back, exposing the corset beneath the bodice of the dress. 

“If you just get the corset undone, I think I can take it from here,” your voice feels small and weak. 

“I can help you to the tub,” he insists and you don’t feel like fighting. 

After the day you’ve had, there isn’t much fight left in you. 

You work on untangling the veil and pins from your hair as Atsumu unlaces the corset. His cold fingers brush your skin, and you begin to worry he’s freezing as well. Maybe you should let him bathe first… it is his home after all. 

“You should bathe and warm up first,” you turn your head over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of him as he pulls the last bit of the corset sting out. Your hands go up to catch the dress so you’re not exposed to him. 

“Don’t be foolish,” he shakes his head. “I’m fine.” 

“If you insist,” you give in, the warmth of the water sounding too good to fight him on. “Will you turn away?” 

He turns away, not looking as you slip out of the wedding dress, shoes, and undergarments. You’re able to wobble to the tub, holding onto its side as you step in and settle down into the hot water. The sigh you let out is necessary, and you sink into the water to your collarbones. 

“I think I can handle bathing myself for now,” you tell him and he nods. 

You watch as he leaves, taking in his looming figure. Letting yourself sink under the water, covering your entire body in warmth, you take in today's events. The town must be gossiping about how you’re just like your mother. Running off and ruining your reputation even further. 

Your father, your poor father. He must be a wreck missing you. Will he send people to search for you? 

The part of the woods you ran into is rarely foraged or hunted. The more you think about it, the more you begin to remember the old fairytales your friends would tell you about this forest. Stories of missing children, vampires, werewolves, and even fairies floating around the woods. Maybe you’ve stumbled into one of those legends that the town’s kids will tell others. The runaway bride and the handsome spooky suitor. 

You come up for air, laughing as you think about it all. 

“Oh dear,” you sigh to yourself, and then you feel the presence of someone else in the room. You sit up, pulling your knees to your chest, too fast. Your ankle shoots like pins and needles, making you cry out. 

Atsumu is kneeling by the tub instantly, and you try to conserve some modesty as he examines you in the tub. Your hands cover your cleavage, hoping your knees suffice for the remainder of your breasts, even with your ankle threatening to give out. 

“What is it? Is it your ankle?” He asks, eyes soft and focused on your face. 

You nod. “I think it’s broken.” You tell him, letting yourself stretch it out as you cover your breast with your hand. 

“May I?” He asks, his hand gesturing to your ankle. 

You nod. 

“Let’s see,” he dips his hand into the water, and you lay back, making it easier for him to lift your leg out of the water. 

His hands are cold on your skin, and you wonder how he deals with being this cool all the time. He feels around your ankle, and you notice it's slightly swollen. Your heels look torn up from the heels you wore, and you notice some of the water dripping from your heel is red. 

“Please be gentle,” you squeak, worried you’ll pester him. 

“I assure you,” he tells you smiling at you before his fingers begin to lightly feel out around your ankle. “I believe it’s just a sprain. No signs of a break.” He sets your foot gently back down into the tub. “Just some rest, ice, and a wrap will take care of it. I’ll see to your care while you’re here.” 

“What makes you think I’m staying here?” You shoot back, suddenly irritated. 

His eyes lock on yours, and that strange calmness settles over you again. Finally, you realize what that look in his eye is, it’s a hunger you’ve never seen. His whole body is tense, really, and you swear he swallows every time his eyes go to your throat. You swallow now, keeping your eyes on him and sitting back up in the tub, struggling to keep yourself covered. 

“C-can I have some of that soap?” You ask, looking at the rack behind him, loaded with different soaps and salts. “And a washrag?” 

He nods, turning his torso to grab a bar of lavender-colored soap and a rag from the shelf behind him. You realize as he holds it out, you have to uncover your breasts. Your heart pounds against your chest, your cheeks heat up, and your breath quickens. Some part of you wants him to look, wondering what he will say or do; but the years of your Governess teaching you that your body is only for your husband. 

But what does that matter now? You ran away from your fiance. You can’t go back nor do you want to. You move your hands from your breasts, taking the soap and rag from him, lathering it after dipping it in the water. 

“You have some cuts on your face, probably from the briars in the forest.” He says, not looking below your collarbone. “Would you allow me to treat them?” 

You nod and scrub the mud from your ankles and the dirt on your hands. Once you get to your heels, you realize the blisters have busted and could easily become infected. 

“You might need to treat my heels when you treat my ankle,” you say sheepishly. 

“Anything you need,” he tells you, gathering supplies at the medicine cabinet across the bathroom. 

You’re able to scrub yourself clean, even reaching out of the tub to grab a bottle of shampoo to scrub through your hair. You’re embarrassed by the amount of leaves you found. By the time Atsumu has returned to your side, you feel refreshed. 

“This may sting,” he tells you, before taking the white cloth and patting it gently to your forehead. 

He’s right it does sting. There must be half a dozen cuts on your face, you realize as he continues to clean the wounds. You didn’t notice it as you were running but with all the falling you did, it shouldn’t come as a surprise. 

“So, will you tell me what you were running from?” He asks finally, a few moments after cleaning the cut. He drops the cloth into the small bowl where he had the cleaning solution and puts it on the shelf behind him. 

He rests his elbows on the edge of the tub, cupping his face in his hands. When you look at him you can’t help but think how pretty he looks like this. 

“It’s a long story,” you say, sounding exasperated. 

“Trust me, I have all the time in the world.” He laughs like it’s an inside joke with himself. 

“I want to dry off before I give you the gossip of my tragic life.” You laugh, smiling at him. “Can I have a robe?” 

“Of course,” he leaves the bathroom, coming back with a red robe, holding it out for you. 

You stand, holding your weight on your left side and trying to balance and step out of the tub. As you step out, your foot catches on the tub and you begin to fall. Atsumu catches you, your wet naked body pressed against his. 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, looking up at him through your lashes. It’'s embarrassing how many times you’ve fallen today, let alone the times he’s had to catch you. 

He swallows slowly, and you watch as his features change, his eyes darkening and jaw tensing. His arms tighten around you, pressing your breasts against him tighter. His face moves towards you, and your eyes go wide. 

His lips taste like iron but with a hint of sweetness. Your eyes flutter shut, and your lips move against his. You’ve never kissed anyone before, and now you see what all the girls giggle about behind their fans. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and you part yours, letting him in. His fingertips dig into your skin. You grip his shoulders, steadying yourself on him. You break away first, gasping for air, unable to sustain yourself just on him. 

His eyes look even darker than before. He looks at you with that same hunger as earlier, and you feel something stir inside you that you’ve never felt before. What is this feeling? It’s like hunger but stronger and in your chest. Your heart is pounding so fast you worry it may explode. 

Is this desire? 

Atsumu clears his throat, “Let’s get those feet of yours treated.” He lifts you once more, carrying your wet body to the bedroom and laying you gently on the bed. “Stay here.” 

Like you’re equipped to run away from him after all this… 

He disappears down the hall for a few minutes, so you take your time examining the room around you. You had time before, but your mind was so foggy you wondered if there was anything you missed. Looking around, you see there are no mirrors in this room. That’s odd. 

“I found some bandages. They should help keep infection away,” Atsumu tells you as he walks into the bedroom. “Also, the cleansing solution will help. I’ll clean and change your wounds daily until they’re healed.” 

He sits on the bottom of the bed, taking your legs in his lap. 

“It may help if you lay on your stomach.” He smiles, looking at you. “Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” you roll around, laying on your stomach and propping yourself up with your elbows. 

You try to look over your shoulder, but the angle Atsumu sits at while cleaning and bandaging your heels and wrapping your right ankle so it doesn’t strain anymore. Once he’s done, you sit up, dangling your feet off the bed. 

“Can I get that robe now?” You ask, a laugh passing your lips. 

“Oh,” Atsumu blushes, and you smile. “Let me get that,” he goes to the bathroom, likely where he dropped it on the floor before catching you. “However, if I give you this robe…” he dangles it in front of you, just out of reach, “you have to tell me what happened to you.” 

You nod and he hands you the robe. You manage to stand just fine, slipping it on and tying it around you. With the wrap on your ankle, you find the throbbing has stopped and it’s fine to put some weight on it. Sitting back down, you let out a sigh. 

“So, I was supposed to get married today.” You tell him and he laughs. “What’s so funny?” 

“I find you in a wedding dress, clearly distraught, and that’s not obvious?” He sits down on the bed with you, crossing his legs and resting his arms on them. His hands fold into each other and his focus seems entirely on you. 

“Well,” you laugh, “you’re right.” Then, you get into the nitty-gritty. 

The engagement and how it came about due to your family reputation. Then the ex whore who sat front row at your wedding. Then the decision to run because of Graham and his terrible personality. All of it comes flooding out, and you don’t know when but at one point you start crying. 

“And my poor father,” you sob, “he must be so confused and worried and cross with me.” 

Atsumu flexes his hand like he wants to reach out to you, but something makes him stop. You look down at your own hands, in your lap, nails biting into the skin. Sometime during the retelling of your miserable day and engagement, you began squeezing them into fists. 

“I’m sure he would understand if you told him all this,” Atsumu says, his voice soft. “I can arrange for someone to take you back in the morning if you’re worried about him.” 

That’s the last thing you want. 

“Or not, it’s up to you.” He relents, probably reading the look on your face. “You can stay with me as long as you want.” He laughs, gesturing with his hand around the room. “I clearly have more than enough room.” 

“I don’t know how to thank you, truly.” You wrap your arms around your body, a chill running through you. “I’m in your debt.” 

Atsumu leans forward, and you wonder if he’s going to kiss you again. “You don’t have to thank me,” he touches your face softly, his skin still cold against yours. 

You yawn and realize you need to rest, seriously rest… perhaps for a week. “Where am I sleeping tonight?” 

His hand drops from your face and you swear you see a flash of disappointment on his face. “I have a room down the hall for you. I started a fire in there when you were bathing, so it should be warm by now.” 

“Th-” 

“You don’t need to thank me.” He interrupts, standing and holding his arm out for you to take. “Let's see if you can handle walking that far.” 

You hook your arm with his, knowing you’ll need him to support your right side. He walks slowly, staying at your pace as you limp down the hall to the room he points out. It’s only a few yards away from his bedroom. The fire is roaring in the fireplace, illuminating and warming the room. He helps you onto the four-poster bed, covering you in the thick blankets. 

“If you need anything, just call for me. I’ll leave the door open so I can hear you.” Atsumu smiles, his face warm and full of something you’re unsure of. 

Quite frankly, you’re unsure of a lot today. 

You thank him several more times, and he accepts them all with grace. He leaves the room after some time and you’re left staring up at the ceiling, wondering what tomorrow will bring. After the chaos of today, you’re sure it can’t be any worse. 

–

You awake and it’s not quite dawn out. Your ankle no longer feels like it’s throbbing, so you swing your legs off the bed and stand, unbalanced at first but after a few steps you’re fine to walk on your own. You grab a chamberstick and light it with the matches you find in a drawer near the fireplace. 

The hallway is dark, as you expected, but not too chilly. You walk down the long hallway until you come to the top of the stairs where Atsumu carried you in. You go past them to the other wing of the castle, which is much darker. No rooms have any glow coming from them and you wonder why. At the end of the hall, two grand doors are open and a faint fire is illuminating it. 

You hold out your candle, lighting the entrance, and realize it’s a library. Fumbling around you find the switch to turn on the lights, illuminating the room. The walls are lined with hundreds, no… thousands of books. The western part of the room goes back deeper than you could have imagined, with lines and lines of shelves holding books of all shapes and colors. 

The room is daunting, to say the least. 

There are several tables spread out, mostly clean with a book or two, but a desk catches your eye. Against the far wall in front of a row of windows, a long mahogany desk sits with stacks of books and several opened and tabbed in multiple places from what you can see. You approach the desk, interested to find out what Atsumu has deemed so interesting himself. 

The largest book is about 800 pages thick you’d guess, if not longer. It looks old, the ends of the pages frayed and yellowing. Looking at its contents you see there’s a language you can’t quite read, old English or German you presume by the looks of it. After carefully marking the page with a blank sheet of paper, you flip to another bookmark. 

This page is in English, listing names and dates of birth and death. You scan the names, none you recognize of course. The name Lestar is similar to your mother’s family name, Lesair.  However, something is strange about the dates… they’re too far apart. Many of them say they’re well into their third century of life before they die, some more than that. This can’t be right. Is this a fictional novel with a family tree given for context? 

You turn the page, showing a family tree with portraits of each of the names. They’re all eerily beautiful, the men and women. This family was surely blessed. The family tree continues into the next few pages until it abruptly stops in the late 1790s. A small asterisk with a note reading: 

Lost to history is the remainder of the bloodline that carried the sun's blessing. 

What could that mean? 

You shake your head, too tired to try and play games with a book. You flip back to the page it was left open on, placing the blank sheet of paper back in its stack. Turning your attention to the book to its right you see it has a family name on its spine, the same family name as the characters in the book you were flipping through. 

Opening the page, it looks to be biographies of each character. What dedication must an author have to write that out for each character in their stories? It’s something you can’t imagine plotting out, but you admire it. Placing it back down, you look to the left. Another stack of books, the one on top opened to the middle of the book. 

You sit on the chair, take the book, and mark the page with that same blank paper, turning to the first page. 

It is not known when we first awoke, but what is known is that we are not some fairytale come to life. The reign of Vampires ended in the early 1300s, but we still persist and exist in the far corners of the world. Tucked away we may be, the bloodlines of those still around are strong. 

You laugh. Atsumu is into Vampire lore? 

The page continues to give a brief history of vampire beginnings and how their bloodlines decreased as centuries passed. None of this was allowed in your schools or at home with your family. Anything that mentioned the unholy was strictly burned or taken by the church. 

After a few chapters, you place the book back, making a mental note to remember you’re at chapter 4 if you decide to come back to it. After you’re certain you’ve left everything exactly how you found it, you leave the library, turning the lights off as you go. 

The candle lights your way back down the hall and down the steps, following the trail of light to the right wing of the castle once again, this time just on the lower level. You pass what looks to be a kitchen, and then you enter a dark room that gives you chills as you step inside. With no light switch, you struggle down a few stone steps further into what reminds you of a dungeon or jail. 

“Water, please,” a hoarse voice chokes out and you jump back, managing to not scream. 

You shakily turn your candle towards the voice, finding a frail man in a jail cell, his arm reaching out towards you. The scene is horrific. He looks to be your age, but something about him seems older. Perhaps being jailed will do that to a person. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t have water.” You tell him, kneeling down in front of him. 

His jail cell is disgusting; it takes everything in you not to gag as the smell lingers. 

“The key, it’s back on the wall by the door. Please let me out.” 

A chill washes over your body. Suddenly, you remember that Atsumu was burying a body when you ran into him. Now, you're finding he has someone captured in this cell. Who is he and why is he doing these things? 

“Why are you here? Why did Atsumu do this?” You ask, a flood of different emotions racing through you. 

“He’s psychotic,” the man hisses, rage seeping through his tone. “Please, madam, I’m begging you to set me free. Hurry before he finds out you’re here.” 

You stand up, going to search for the key. Maybe this man will help lead you back to town to your father. Then perhaps your father will take you back in and help you fix the life you’ve screwed up. After finding the key, you unlock the jail cell. 

“Can you help me find-” before you finish your sentence, the man has pushed you to the ground. 

The candle you were holding falls to the side, illuminating only his face. His eyes are glowing red and wild. You scream, but the man covers your mouth with his hand. 

“Stupid girl, I’m surprised Atsumu hasn’t already taken a bite out of you.” As he talks you notice his canines are strangely long and pointed. 

Your eyes widen and you realize that this isn’t a normal man. His strength, despite looking frail, is abnormal. His eyes, his teeth, his strength… he can’t be. 

Vampires aren’t real. 

They’re not real. 

They’re not. 

“Get. Off. Her.” The sound of Atsumu’s voice burns your ears. 

The man looks up from you and his eyes narrow as he hisses Atsumu’s name. He jumps off of you and towards the sound of Atsumu’s voice. You scurry to the corner towards the candle, grabbing it and holding it towards the sound of fighting. 

As the light illuminates the two male figures, you see Atsumu snap the man’s neck. The body falls to the ground while the head remains in Atsumu’s hands. He drops the head when he sees you looking at him, horror clear on your face. 

“-----,” your name rings off his lips. 

“No!” You scoot back further into the corner, your back hitting the wall. “Don’t come near me!” 

He doesn’t listen. 

“Please, let me explain.” Atsumu is in front of you, kneeling in front of you and holding his hand out to you. “I’m begging you to hear me out.” 

You don’t feel inclined to grab his hand this time, the feeling of urgency still racing through your body. When Atsumu had scared you, you almost felt compelled to relax and not think about what you’d witnessed. Now, everything feels clear. 

“I want to know what is going on now!” You yell at him and smack his hand away from you. “How did you rip that man's head off? Why did you have him in that jail cell?” 

Atsumu stands, turning away from you and walking a few steps away. “If you come with me, I’ll answer any questions you have.” 

You watch as he goes, stepping over the body by the door and down the hall. After a few shaky breaths, you stand up and walk to the door leading to the hallway. You have to step over the body of the man and around the severed head. When you get in the hallway, you see Atsumu going further down into the foyer of the house. 

Following him, he takes you down the only hall you haven’t explored. The room he walks into appears to be a large kitchen from the hall. You take a few moments to collect your thoughts before walking in. When you enter the room, a wave of warmth hits you from the brick oven on the wall. It seems to have been firing all night. 

“Do you like tea?” He asks and you nod. 

“With honey.” You sit at the counter where a long bench is under the overhang. 

After a few minutes, he sets a white teacup with dark tea steeping in the cup. You let it sit for a few more, Atsumu pacing to your left by shelves full of different herbs and teas from what you can tell.

“Are you going to answer my questions?” You finally ask after taking a sip of your tea. 

“That man you saw me kill, was a despicable being. He’d killed at least a dozen girls in London in ways you could not begin to fathom.” Atsumu turns to you, his eyes dark. “I was planning on letting him starve to death down there and you ruined it.” 

“What was he? His eyes were glowing red and his strength was… inhuman.” You tell him. “His teeth were sharp like a…” you don’t finish the sentence. 

“Say it.”  

“No.” 

“Say it, —--.” 

“A vampire.” 

He nods and your world feels like it’s been turned upside down. 

“It’s okay, you’re safe.” He assures you but you smack his hand away again. 

“Don’t touch me.” You tell him, reeling away from his touch. 

“I’m sorry.” He steps back, his face falling. 

“So those books in your library… they’re not fiction.” He nods. “What are you?” 

“You know.” He says, turning away and looking out the window into the dark sky towards the moon. 

“Fuck,” for the first time in your life, you feel like you’re never going to come back from this. 

Even after running away from your wedding. That could have been solved, fixed even. This? Will Atsumu even allow you to leave now that you know what he is? It’s terrifying to think you grew up not far from this immortal being, lurking in the woods you played in as a child with friends. 

However, when you think about it, no one ever went missing in the village. No one was ever found suspiciously dead. 

“I know what you’re thinking.” He says and you narrow your eyes. 

“Can you read my mind too?” 

“What?” His face contours in confusion. “I can’t read minds and what do you mean by too?” 

You sigh in relief and lean forward, elbows on the counter. “You have some sort of relaxation power, don’t you? It’s the only reason I didn't freak out after I saw you burying that body… I wanted to run away and scream but I felt compelled to trust you and calm down. That’s not natural. I shouldn’t have conveniently forgotten about the body until now either.” 

Atsumu sits across from you, his eyes watching you. Those golden brown eyes are mesmerizing in every way and something about the golden hue is also unnatural. Everything about him is, you suppose. After all, he isn’t a creature of God’s making but perhaps the devil. 

“I do have the power to compel people to my will, that is what you’ve felt.” He admits, his posture stiffening. “I’m sorry for using it on you, but I couldn’t have you running off in that panicked state blabbering about what you saw in the woods. The best case scenario is the town comes looking for me, the worst case is you end up in an asylum. I was burying the body of another vampire who I’d imprisoned for similar crimes to the man who attacked you earlier. I don’t harm humans when I can help it.” 

“When you can help it?” 

“I do have to feed,” he tells you, “but I try not to kill or turn them when I do it.” 

You nod, taking another sip of your tea. “Are you planning on doing that to me?” 

He grins, actually grins, then says, “Only if you want me to.” 

Something in your stomach flutters and you’re scared of this side of yourself. Why do you have the inclination to let him? 

“Something wrong?” He asks, that same grin on his stupid face. “Did that intrigue you?” 

You shake your head no. 

“Liar.” He stands up, taking your empty tea cup and placing it in the sink. “It can be pleasurable,” he says, running water over the cup. “Some people volunteer for the satisfaction of it all.” 

Your face burns now, looking down at the counter and your hands turning into fists. Why would he be flirting with you after all of this? You move your hands to your lap, relaxing them and rubbing your thighs through your nightgown. Atsumu turns the water off and you look up as he dries the teacup with a towel, placing it back on the shelf it came from. 

“I have a proposal.” He says, turning back to face you. You tilt your head in curiosity. “We no longer lie to one another. Even if it’s hard, we tell the truth. I suppose you don’t want to go back home after running away and I clearly would rather you stay here and keep my secret.” 

You nod. “I agree to the terms, but I still have questions.” 

“I would assume you have many. It would be strange if you didn’t.” 

“What were you studying in the library? I read some pages from a few of the books, thinking they were fictional and now I’m more confused than ever.” 

“Come with me. I’ll show you.” He offers his hand, and you hesitate. “Honesty, we promised.” 

“I didn’t promise, I agreed to the terms.” You correct him, placing your hand in his. 

He leads you out of the kitchen and down the hall further. “There are steps on either end of the halls as well, just so you know. That way you’re not running back and forth to get to the main staircase.” He leads you up a less ornate staircase, leading right into the dark library. Atsumu releases your hand and steps away, the lights illuminating the room a few moments later. 

You walk over to his desk by the windows, noticing the drapes are not shut. Why did they close? Ah, it will be morning soon. Opening the largest book on the center of the desk you flip to the page with the asterisk you remember. 

Lost to history is the remainder of the bloodline that carried the sun's blessing. 

You read the line aloud, looking at Atsumu. “What does this mean? Who are these people?” 

Atsumu lounges in his desk chair before answering. “The sun’s blessing means that these vampires were able to be out in the sun, living more normal lives than most of us. It’s unknown why they had the ability to withstand the star’s light, but they could.” 

“They live among us?” 

“They did before they went missing. One morning they were in their familial homes, and the next vanished as if into thin air.” He sighs. “I want to know what happened to them. It doesn’t make sense for them to uproot their lives without reason. They were a secretive clan amongst us, but there are theories.” 

He gets up, as if excited, walking quickly to a shelf across the room. He takes a few moments, scanning the spines of books before grabbing an emerald green book and bringing it to the desk. When you see it, it also has several tabs on it. 

“You see, there are stories of other vampires inheriting this ability as if the family gifted it to them. There’s no record of how it happens, but there has to be a way.” He turns to a page about a third of the way into the book, full of notes in the margins. “Here this author theorizes it was from something they ingested, but we can’t stomach the food humans eat, so it could have been an herb of some sort in a tea.” 

“You can drink tea?” You ask, taken aback.

“Of course,” he laughs. “It’s why I keep so many.” He opens to another page. He smiles as he reads some of the lines and you lean on his desk. “Here the author suggests that they blood let and shared it with the vampires who inherited the gift.” 

“Did they ingest it?” You ask and Atsumu shrugs. 

“It’s against our laws to feed from another vampire, so I wouldn’t think so. But, that is a possibility. They could have injected it into themselves, but even that seems too close to feeding.” Atsumu closes the book and takes it back to the shelf it came from. 

“Why are you so obsessed with them?” You ask, looking at the portraits and names once more. 

Charlotta Lestar died in 1767, 343 years after her birth by your calculations. Her child, a son named James, seems to still be living. There’s no death date for him and a few others, but that could just be unknown since they all disappeared. You flip to the next page and it begins to give the family history, starting with the first recorded Lestar family member. 

“Did you know any of them?” You ask when he doesn’t answer your last question. 

He nods and sits back in his chair. “Our families were friends. I knew Charlotta’s children well.” 

“How old are you?” You ask, partly scared to hear the answer. 

“213, respectfully. You?” 

“24,” you answer, feeling ashamed. All of your friends had married by 20 and you were here, still unwed and slowly turning into an old maid. 

“A drop in time to me,” he smiles, taking your hand and squeezing it. 

“You never told me why you were looking into the family,” you remind him. 

He sighs, then rolls up the long sleeves of his shirt. Starting at his wrists and all the way up to his elbows, you notice small white patches, almost like scars. “I’ve been testing my methods with the sun. When I was a child I tried to follow James out one morning and nearly died. I have these marks all over my body.” He looks up to you and there’s something like desperation in his eyes. 

“My work would be so much easier if I could go out during the day. Having to hunt and feed at night makes things harder. I can research during the day just fine, but being confined to this home drives me mad.” He continues. 

“Being trapped at home is something of a nightmare,” you agree. “Can I help? I love reading and maybe some fresh eyes on the material would help you.” 

“You’d want to do that?” He asks and you nod. He smiles and jumps up from his chair again. “You need to start with the histories, first. I know it’s here somewhere,” he scans a shelf by his desk. “Ah, yes, here it is.” The book he hands you looks to be recently rebounded. The pages are much older than the bindings. 

“I’ll read it today.” You open the cover and look at the author, noting the name Osamu Miya, relation of Atsumu’s perhaps. “Do you rest during the day?” 

“I don’t need sleep like humans.” He tells you. “I do rest, but it’s mostly to keep from having to feed too often I usually spend my days in here. The human staff I have take care of the house during the day and believe me to be one of you. I beg of you not to make them think otherwise.” 

“My lips are sealed.” 

Atsumu nods quickly with a smile, “Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a friend.” 

– 

The next few weeks are full of studying, time passing quickly. Atsumu has his staff fill the kitchen with food and your dressing room with clothing. All your needs are met, but something else is pulling at you. The days you spend reading in the library with Atsumu become your reason for waking up. 

You rarely think about Graham or your father. Whatever they have been doing seems to not concern you, since no one has come knocking at the castle doors. Perhaps they’ve forgotten about you, something that stings but isn’t all that bad. You hope they’ve found happiness in the way you have. 

Atsumu even begins to let you in on what he does during the nights when he disappears from the castle. He’s been charged with capturing vampires who are gluttonous or vile in their killings. There are no laws about killing within their society, but they don’t like to draw attention to themselves. Atsumu handles the situations where some are. However, he stops keeping prisoners in his home. 

He educates you on the histories of vampires, the different covens, clans, and even families within them. After a month you are pretty sure you’re a walking history book, but you’ve learned nothing about the Lestar family. One afternoon, you decide to ask about them. 

“When will I begin helping you with the Lestar family?” You ask, putting the last book you finished on the shelf. 

Atsumu looks up from his writing, his hair disheveled. “Do you feel like you know enough about my kind to begin?” 

You sit across from him at the table he’s been at since last night. “I believe I am. Quiz me!” 

“Question one, what do we eat?” he grins as he asks. 

“Shut up, ask me something serious.” You laugh, your foot rubbing against his leg as you swing your feet under the table. 

He grins at you and you pull away, mouthing a sorry to him. It’s not like you haven’t touched Atsumu before, after all, the kiss you shared was the most intimate thing you’ve experienced in your short life. 

“Where should I start now?” You ask, eager to read about the family of vampires who lived among humans and walked in the sun. 

“Any of the books I have on them are just fine places to start. However, if you want theories, you can read this one here,” he slides the same emerald green book from that first night in the library. “My brother wrote this, actually.” 

You open the cover and see a familiar name, “Osamu Miya?” Atsumu nods. “I guess it seems you’re not the only one obsessed.” 

“We all grew up together, it’s not that surprising, is it?” He laughs, resting his head on his hand. “Osamu is just better at writing than me. I send him everything I come up with and he does the same.” 

“I’d like to meet him one day,” you decide. 

“We’ll see about that.” He goes back to reading his book and you begin yours. 

The theories his brother presents on the family are numerous, but nothing is conclusive. Everything about the family was kept so secretive that even family friends had no idea how they were able to be in the sun without being killed. The trait was passed down to family members by birth, no matter which parent had the trait. 

The only vampires granted the power were those who married into the family, and most of them seemed to be random. The reasoning behind the partnerships isn’t love, power, or money. Whatever their deciding factor was, is still as unclear as the transformation itself. 

By the time you’re through the book, it’s evening. You yawn and your stomach growls. Despite the snacks the staff brought you throughout the day, you’re starving. 

“Would it be weird if you joined me for dinner? I know you can’t eat, but it gets lonely in the dining room.” It feels awkward asking, but after a month of silent dinners, you’re not sure you can stand another. 

“I’d love to join you. I’ll have tea while you eat.” He smiles, standing from his chair. His clothes are as disheveled as his hair. “If you’ve been lonely, why didn’t you ask me sooner?” 

You shrug, “I didn’t want to bother you more than I already have.” 

Atsumu halts walking, stopping atop the stairs. “You’ve never been a bother to me,” he takes your hand. “I’ve been delighted to have you in my home.” 

Your face heats up and you bite your bottom lip to keep the smile from growing too wide. “I’ve had a better time with you than I’ve had in the last ten years of my life.” 

Atsumu steps closer to you, his hand caressing your cheek. You look up at him, lips slightly parted, but you’re unable to speak. 

“I hope you know what you mean to me.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and your stomach flutters. 

You grab his waist, pulling his body closer to yours. “Atsumu,” you whine. 

“What is it?” He asks, his lips grazing your forehead. You whine again. “You have to tell me what you want.” 

“Kiss me,” you say after a few moments. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he kisses you quickly, his lips moving against yours with a hunger you’ve never experienced. 

His lips taste sweet now, but the tinge of iron is still there. You wonder when the last time he fed was, a pang of jealousy washing through you. Your fingers grip him tightly, your body flush with his. His tongue teases your lips and you part your mouth, letting him in. 

He pulls away, resting his forehead on yours, eyes on your lips. “I want to show you so many things,” he whispers. “Will you let me?” 

You nod. 

“I want you to say it.” 

“Please, show me everything.” 

Atsumu grins, picking you up in his arms, your gown riding up around your thighs as you hook your legs around him. You kiss him again, biting his bottom lip and making him growl. Before you know it, he’s slamming his bedroom door shut and dropping you down on his bed. 

“What do you want me to do?” He asks, crawling on the bed on top of you. 

“Touch me,” you breathe out. 

“Have you ever?” 

You shake your head no and something flashes in his eyes. 

He leans down, kissing you and sliding your dress up your thighs. “You can tell me to stop whenever you want,” he whispers, kissing down your throat. 

Your heart races, knowing how easily he could drain you of your blood now is something you never expected to worry about. Each nip of his teeth at your skin reminds you of it. You begin to feel too hot, desperate for him to rip this godforsaken gown off of you. 

“Get this dress off of me,” you beg, writhing under Atsumu. 

He sits up, his eyes wild. He pulls you up into a sitting position before flipping you onto your stomach to undo the many buttons down your back. You feel the cooler air hit your skin and whimper as Atsumu’s fingers drag down your skin. Undressing in this gown isn’t easy but his hands on you is worth it. 

By the time you’re left in the slip you wore under the dress, you’re desperate to feel his kisses again. He smiles at you, standing by the bed and looking you up and down. Your cheeks heat and you want to cover yourself, but remember the first night you met him he saw every part of you anyway. 

His hands grip your thighs, pulling you down to the edge of the bed. He kneels in front of the bed, licking his lips once before kissing your inner thigh. You gasp at the sensation, chills running up your spine and curling your toes. You sit up on your elbows, watching him kiss up your right thigh, pushing the slip up over your waist. 

He looks at you as if he’s looking for permission and you nod. 

The first touch of his tongue on your cunt is overwhelming. His tongue continues to move on you, his hands gripping your thighs while he laps at you. You moan, unable to keep any form of composure. Your fingers dig into the sheets as his tongue teases your clit. You fall back, unable to watch any longer, wanting to focus solely on the feeling. 

He stops for a moment and your eyes flutter open, seeing him suck on his own middle finger. He grins as he sees you watching him. He slowly teases your entrance with the finger, leaning back down to suck on your clit. You close your eyes again, whimpering and bucking your hips. As his finger presses into you, you still, take in the sensation. Your mouth falls open and you breathe out. 

“Shh,” Atsumu hushes you as you begin to whimper. “It’ll start feeling good and not foreign, I swear.” 

He slowly pumps his finger out of you and back in, curling it inside you as he goes. He was so right, oh so right. You moan, the feeling sending shockwaves through you. When you open your eyes, Atsumu is hovering over you, his finger still pumping inside you. 

“See,” he grins, “feels good, right?” 

You nod between moans and reach for Atsumu above you. He leans down, kissing your lips and teasing you with his tongue. He tastes like you, his lips coated with your arousal. 

“Do you want more?” He asks and you nod. “When will you learn to use your words?” 

“More, please,” you whine, looking up expecting to see his brown eyes but they’ve been replaced with the glowing gold you’ve only seen when he’s been hungry. 

Your stomach flips and the fear you feel is nothing compared to the pleasure of his second finger pumping into you with the first. He stretches you, his fingers working in tandem to bring you feelings you can’t explain, leaving you breathless. Something in your stomach snaps and you feel yourself coming to an end, ready to let go. 

“Cum for me,” he whispers against your ear, his breath tickling you. 

As you climax, you grip onto Atsumu, holding his hand on your right and his arm on your left. It’s unlike any pleasure release you’ve ever had. What you used to do desperately at night at home with your fingers is nothing compared to this. He chuckles as you come down, looking at him with glossy eyes. He kisses your forehead, praising you with quiet words and pulling his fingers out of you. 

“Lay back,” you demand, sitting up and pushing against his pillows. 

He looks pleasantly surprised, your abruptness is not something he was expecting. He lays down against the pillows, spreading his arms and parting his legs enough for you to crawl between them. You smile at him before pushing them back together and sitting on his lap, your cunt sensitive against his trousers. 

His arms wrap around you and you kiss him, holding his face between your hands. “I want to learn to please you too,” you tell him. 

He smiles, biting his bottom lip before speaking. “What do you think you should do?” 

You take in a shaky breath, remembering some erotic scenes from some books stashed in the back of his library that you snuck into your room. “I think I know,” you admit, “but I want you to tell me what you need.” 

“You. You’re all I need.” 

The feeling pangs at your heart but you refuse to give in to it and name it. 

You kiss him feverishly before unbuttoning his shirt, kissing his neck, and working your way down his body. He was right, he’s covered in these white splotches. They scar most of his skin, all the way down to his waist. Settling between his legs, you unbutton the three buttons on his pants, noticing the tenting as you go. 

He holds his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches you, his chest noticeably moving as he breathes. He lifts his hips and you shimmy the pants down over his waist and off his legs, tossing them on the floor to your right. His underwear is tight, the bulge prominent now. 

“Why do you look so nervous?” He teases, so you stick your tongue out at him. “I bet that would feel nice on my cock,” he tells you, leaning forward and grabbing your face. “Don’t you want a taste?” 

You nod, kissing him again before pushing his chest back so he lays back against the pillows once more. He tenses as you feel his cock through his underwear. He closes his eyes and titls his head back, enjoying your touch. 

Reaching up with your other hand, pulling at the waistband and pulling them down over his hips. Reading about something for the first time is nothing like seeing it for the first time. Everything about Atsumu is infuriatingly beautiful, and his cock is no exception. You take it in your hand and timidly stroke it once. 

“Fuck,” Atsumu moans, his eyes still closed and head tilted back. 

You smile at his response and lean down, taking the head of his cock in your mouth. He moans louder as your tongue swirls around the tip. 

“Just like that,” he whimpers. “Use your hand like this,” he opens his eyes and places his hand over yours; showing you what to do. 

Your hand gets wet from your spit dribbling down from where your lips meet his cock, making it easier to stroke him. He lets go of your hand and you’re able to learn on your own now. Every sound Atsumu makes encourages you further. Soon enough you’re able to take more than half his length in your mouth without worrying you’re going to hurt him by doing something wrong. 

He thrusts up into your mouth, forcing you to take him all in and you choke, pulling away and coughing. 

“I’m so sorry, I just lost control,” he sits up cupping your cheeks. 

He kisses your lips, pulling away and a trail of drool follows, still connecting your lips. You grin and break it with your finger. 

“You don’t have to be sorry, I’m okay. You can’t break me.” 

He chuckles, “If only that were true, darling.” 

You giggle, kissing him again and climbing on top of him, straddling his thighs. He grabs your hips, pulling you further up his body, pushing your hips down so your cunt grinds against his cock. You whimper against his lips, feeling his length against you. The tip of his cock prods at your entrance and you break away from the kiss. 

“Do you want to stop?” He asks looking up at you. 

“No, God no.” You shake your head. “I-” you stutter, stopping yourself. 

He sits up closer to you, your bodies flush with each other. “You can tell me,” he says. 

“I want you.” 

His eyes flash with something you can’t read, disappointment maybe? No, it couldn’t be that, could it? You’re saying exactly what he wants to hear even if it's not what you thought originally. He couldn’t know that, though. 

“It’s going to hurt at first,” he warns you and you nod. “Go at your own pace,” he kisses your cheek, laying back and letting you take control. 

You sink down on him about an inch, letting yourself get used to the stretch. His cock feels so much bigger in your cunt than when it was in your mouth. You bite down hard on your lip, holding in the sounds of discomfort as you sink further down on him. 

“Don’t do that you’ll bleed,” Atsumu’s thumb pulls your lip from your teeth. 

“I’m sorry,” you whimper and sink as far down as you can, sitting in Atsumu’s lap and taking him in entirely. 

“Don’t ever,” he rasps, “apologize while taking my cock in you like that.” 

His hands move to your hips, his fingers digging into your ass. You use your knees to rise up again, feeling his cock drag against the walls inside of you. It doesn’t feel as good as his fingers, the pain overwhelming you. 

“It’s okay,” he hushes your cries. “Go at your pace.” 

You try again, sinking down, rising up, and sinking down again. You’re used to the feeling now and even begin to feel good as his cock reaches further inside of you than his fingers. You let out a moan the fifth time you came down on him, finally feeling what you felt before. 

“There you go,” he encourages you, using his hands to help you ride him. 

He pulls you down by your face, kissing you and beginning to thrust up into you slowly. Your thighs shake but you hold onto Atsumu’s shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.  That familiar feeling from before creeps up on you, and you whimper, clenching around him. 

He flips you onto your back, pulling out of you and smiling at you wildly. “You can’t cum yet.” 

You nod, sitting up and kissing him and pulling him down with you, desperate to have him in you again. He pulls away and grins. 

“Are you greedy already? I told you I wanted to show you many things.” He teases, his fingers playing with your clit. 

You gasp, “We have other nights for that. I need you now.” 

He laughs, moving closer to you and spreading your legs wider. He pushes into you, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. The sounds that leave your mouth ring in your ears, but you try focusing on Atsumu’s cues. His eyes focus on you when you open yours, and that feeling in your stomach builds back up. 

“Tsumu,” you whine, slurring his name. 

“That’s music to my ears,” he moans. “Need to cum darling?” 

You nod. “Wanna cum.” 

“Cum with me,” he whispers against your lips and you do. 

It feels like waves across your body, the first strong and fierce. The second ringing through your body and lingering as Atsumu cums inside of you. You hold onto Atsumu as if he’s your lifeline, both of you breathing hard and heavy. 

He kisses your forehead before rolling to the side of the bed and pulling you close to him. You cuddle up to him, taking in the last hour. He stares up at the ceiling, his breath evening out sooner than yours. You tilt your head up looking closer at his expression. 

“What are you thinking about?” You ask. 

“Honestly?” 

“We promised to be truthful.” 

He smiles. “I’m thinking about how many more rounds I could take you before you’re too sore for more.” 

You smack his chest and sit up. “I think we’ve reached that limit.” 

He grins, sitting up on his elbows. “I guarantee you’ll be begging me for more before you even finish your dinner tonight.” 

“You’re awfully full of yourself,” you giggle, pulling your knees to your chest. 

“You’re also full of me,” he grins, kissing your temple and getting off the bed. “Come, bathe with me. Then I’ll make you dinner.” 

“You’ll make me dinner?” 

“I can read a recipe book and figure it out. Besides, there’s probably something edible in case I ruin everything.” 

You laugh, taking his hand and following him to the bathroom. 

The bath is always relaxing, but a bath with Atsumu is anything but. He’s constantly dumping water on you and splashing you like a child. The few moments when he relaxes and lets you lay against his chest, you relish. 

At some point, you fall asleep in the tub against Atsumu. You awake in his bed, under the cover of his thick duvet. Atsumu is nowhere to be found, so you find a shirt of his from a drawer and slip it on. Walking down the hall, you see a faint light coming from the wing where the kitchen is.

“-----,” your name on his lips sends chills down your spine. “I think I’ve made you a sandwich.” 

He presents in front of you something that does resemble a sandwich, but the ingredients are questionable. You still take a bite and swallow it. It isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever had. Your father hired a terrible cook for a few weeks before you insisted on getting a new one after a bout of food poisoning. 

“How is it?” 

“Honestly?” 

He nods. 

“It’s not the worst thing I’ve ever had,” you laugh, putting the half down on the plate. “We should stick to what your staff prepares.” 

He looks defeated but grins anyway. “You should go back to bed. I’ll have a big breakfast sent to our room in the morning.” 

“Our room?” You smile, biting your bottom lip. 

He nods. “I’ll join you after I clean up. I’ll take tonight off.” 

You smile at him before heading back towards his room. Most nights he spends them hunting down other vampires who’ve committed crimes. His determination and commitment to his task are unlike most of the men you’ve known. 

Atsumu’s room is warm from the fire, but the flames are starting to die down. You throw a log on the fire and crawl back into bed. Atsumu keeps his promise, coming to lay in bed with you soon after. You talk about your life with him, telling him everything you’ve been holding onto. He offers nothing but a listening ear, just what you like. 

–

The weeks that follow are much the same as the ones before, except your nights are full of more and more learning. Atsumu pleases you in ways you’ve never imagined possible with his fingers, tongue, and cock. However, you begin to become concerned with how often his eyes seem to turn golden with hunger. 

“Tsumu?” You chime one night after a long session with him between your legs. 

“Hmm?” He hums. 

“When was the last time you fed?” You ask, sitting up on the bed and playing with his hair from where he lays in your lap. 

“It’s been a while.” He answers, looking up at you, his eyes now golden once again. “I probably should tonight.” 

“Who do you feed from?” The jealousy is in your voice. 

“There are some people who volunteer for the pleasure of it. I think I told you this before. In London, there’s a home where my kind likes to go when we’re hungry.” Atsumu’s honesty doesn’t do anything to curb your feelings. 

“I don’t want you to go there,” you tell him, keeping up with the honesty you swore to keep. “Use me,” you offer. 

“-----, are you sure?” He asks, and you nod. 

You pull your hair from your neck, revealing the supple skin. 

Atsumu laughs, “I could kill you feeding from there.” 

Your face heats in embarrassment. “Where do you feed from?” 

He sits up, taking your arm and pointing to your wrist. “Lay back, it will hurt at first.” 

You lay back, looking up at the ceiling and then at Atsumu. He smiles at you as he hovers over your body. His lips press against yours and he mumbles some reassuring words. He slowly brings your wrist up to his mouth, and you see the flash of his fangs before they seep into your skin. 

Crying out, you instinctively pull away but Atsumu keeps your arm still. The pain turns to an unimaginable wave of pleasure, not unlike the way he makes you cum every night. You moan, actually moan after a minute of it. The burning is intense, but not unmanageable. After another minute, he pulls away from your wrist, blood dripping from his lips. 

When you look in his eyes, something has changed, and not just the color of them. He moves off of you, walking quickly to the bathroom. You sit up, checking your wrist and admiring the two small red puncture wounds. He tosses you a bandage from the bathroom entryway. 

Something is wrong. 

“Atsumu?” You lay the bandage down and get off the bed, your head spinning as you do. 

“Please, lay back down.” He moves to catch you, but you fall back onto the bed. 

“What’s wrong?” He shakes his head at your voice. 

“I have something I have to do.” He rushes out of the room and you don’t see him for the rest of the night. 

Sleep doesn’t come. You stay up all night, worried that you did something to change his feelings for you. Did you taste bad? 

Can blood taste bad? 

You pace for a while in front of his windows, waiting for dawn to come. As the first spots of daylight begin to show you see Atsumu enter the castle. You rush down the hall and down the steps. 

When he sees you, there’s not a glimpse of joy on his face. 

“Ats-” 

“I think you should go back to your father.” He interrupts you and you feel like the castle is crumbling in on you. 

“But… Atsumu… why?” 

“I think it's for the best. I’ve called for a carriage. You leave in an hour.” He rushes up the stairs and towards the library.

The sound of the doors slamming shut echoes through the castle as you fall to your knees. You’re not sure how long you lie there, perhaps for the full hour. You can’t even cry it hurts so bad. He’s betrayed the honesty you promised to one another. 

“Madam, the carriage is waiting for you,” Arthur, Atsumu’s butler, taps on your shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I must ask that you go.” 

You nod, pulling yourself together and walking to the carriage. You’re numb the whole ride home. It takes about an hour for you to arrive at the doorstep of your father’s estate. When you step off the carriage, your father isn’t there to greet you, but instead it’s Graham. 

You step back, nearly tripping over the carriage steps. 

“Where on earth have you been?” The sound of his voice makes you want to vomit. 

“Where is my father?” You ask, stepping towards him, but keeping more than enough distance between him. 

“He’s in London, searching for you. I’ve been maintaining the family home while you’ve been what? Whoring yourself to stay afloat?” Graham laughs, watching as the carriage leaves before he insults you. 

“Graham, I swear to God if that whore of yours is in my home, I will have you castrated.” You remember the mistress he keeps in London. If he’s been here, she probably has too. 

“I’m not stupid enough to bring her here with all the attention you’ve brought us. Do you know what you’ve done? What you’ve caused?” His words ring with hatred. “We told half the town you had a breakdown just to keep your name from being ruined! We tried to defend you!” 

“Why are you even here? I thought it would be clear I didn’t want to marry you by running away!” You yell, frustrated with the way your life has gone in the last four months. 

“You trifling whore, how dare you raise your voice with me,” he steps closer to you, his anger reaching its peak. “After all the trouble you’ve caused, you’re not going to treat me this way. You’re lucky I decided to stay engaged to you and that you still have a future.” 

“I’m never going to marry you, Graham. Never.” You walk past him and into your father’s home, slamming and locking the door behind you. 

The staff in the house scurry around, looking at you as if they’ve seen a ghost. Perhaps some of them thought you had run off and died. None of them stop you from going to your old room, and none of them stop you from tearing everything off the walls. You scream, throw things, and even toss old dresses out the window. 

If they want a madwoman, you’ll give it to them. 

Several hours later, your father's carriage pulls up. You watch him run into the house and hear his clumsy footsteps leading to your room. He bursts in the door, calling your name in a sob. You let him hug you and cry on your shoulder. You let him beg you to never go away again. 

Everything feels numb now that you’ve been shown the life you want and can’t have it. 

After half an hour, he leaves you to your destroyed room, mentioning he needs to discuss things with Graham. If he even tries to plan another marriage, you’ll run away and never look back; and in the opposite direction of Atsumu’s castle. 

When you’re called for dinner, you don’t bother dressing. You go in your worn dress from the night before, your wrist still bandaged from Atsumu’s fangs. The dining room is too warm from the fire and the warm spring day. Your father sits at the head of the table and Graham beside him, both of them engaged in the conversation they’re having. 

As you sit, your father comments on your appearance and you glare at him. 

“Sweetie, he’s just concerned,” Graham’s facade makes you want to rip his hair out. 

“We think it would be good to spend the spring and summer in London. A change of scenery for you, and perhaps you can make time to plan a new ceremony for the fall. They have great doctors in London, as well.” Your father’s optimism is something you’ve always loved, but in your mental state now, you just want him to shut up and give up on you. 

“I’m not planning another wedding.” You tell him. “I would like to go to London though.” 

“Then we will go in a week! I’ll have new dresses sent to our house there, you won’t need to bring anything but yourself.” Graham tells you and your father as the staff sets your food in front of you. 

The thought of putting anything in your stomach makes you want to vomit. You sit there through dinner, listening but not adding to the conversation. Graham seems to have your father wrapped tighter around his finger than before, and you don’t blame him. You left, after all. Once dessert is served, you dismiss yourself and head to your room. 

Sinking into the covers, you finally allow yourself to cry. 

– 

London in the spring is something you used to love. Your mother always dragged you and your father from your country home to the city for the peak season, going to shops, cafes, and all the music halls she could find. After she left, you quit going altogether. 

Stepping into Graham’s house feels surreal. All week, you argued with him whenever your father was gone, listening to his empty threats. You threatened to have his food poisoned at one point, but he just laughed. At some point, you stopped talking to him altogether. 

“Your room is on the third floor, the second on the right,” Graham tells you, dropping bags down in the foyer. 

“Thanks,” you mutter, walking up the steps and not looking back to him or your father. 

You hear mutters of worry about your sanity, concerns about where you’ve been all winter, and more things you can’t care to remember. The staircase is steep, but you take your time. By the time you’re in your room, you feel like he picked this room just to exhaust you. He must have noticed you haven’t been eating most nights. 

There is a nice view of the city from your room, at least. 

It’s past noon now, and there’s discussion about going out to dinner tonight to change things up, but you know you’ll fight tooth and nail before having to be reintroduced into society. Your father begs you to dress, telling you he’ll do anything to make you happy. 

To get him to shut up, you agree. 

Dressing with the assistance of one of Graham’s maids, you find yourself in a pale blue dress, the color awfully similar to the trim of your wedding dress. Perhaps he likes this color. Perhaps you’ll ruin it for him. When you make it to the foyer, your father is still not there, leaving you uncomfortably silent with Graham standing by the door. 

“You look decent for once,” he comments and you turn your head. “This could be easy, you know. A business transaction for us both.” 

“I’d rather die than marry you.” You finally look at him, really look at him for who he is. 

“That it seems.” He sighs. He steps towards you, his hand reaching out and moving a loose strand of hair away from your face. 

His hand is warm on your skin and it makes you cringe. He steps back, looking at you from the head down. He almost looks like he’s working on a puzzle, trying to figure out what piece of you to place next. 

“I can be kind. We could have a satisfying life, you and I both. I swear to be faithful to you until we have a few children if you do the same. You can spend money as you please. We can even live separately if you wish.” Graham really wants your father's money if he’s offering this. 

Before you can answer him, your father joins you in the foyer. “I hope this restaurant you’ve chosen is a good one, boy.” He claps Graham on the back of the shoulder and laughs. 

“Oh, you know I always pick good ones. Why else would I want to be with your daughter.” 

You scoff and roll your eyes. 

They both ignore you. 

The walk to the restaurant is not unpleasant, the umbrella you carry covers your face from strangers who may be looking at you. Once you arrive, they seat you outside. You fold up the umbrella, leaning it against your chair, and sitting down. Graham and your father continue talking about the horse race they’ve seemed to bet on for the upcoming weekend, but you watch the people walking by. 

Your mind begins to wander to Atsumu and your heart hurts. You never were able to be completely honest with him either. You kept what you felt to yourself. 

However, he completely shut you out without giving any explanation. He broke the trust first. He never asked you how you felt and if he had, you may have told him. 

“Would you like that, sweetie?” Graham asks and you furrow your brows. 

“What?” You ask. “I wasn’t listening.” 

“Your father suggested I show you the block after dinner. He’s planning on joining the gentlemen at the next table at the club tonight after dinner.” Graham tells you. 

“I suppose I’ll walk with you,” as if you have a choice now. 

Dinner is served not long after, and you manage to down a few vegetables and a bite of your chicken. Graham and your father have both given up on commenting on your eating habits, which you’re grateful for. It’s made it easier to manage. Once it’s over, you regret taking the few bites that you did. You have to stomach Graham for the next hour before you make it home.

At least the days are longer now, so if he tries anything, there will most likely be a witness. 

He takes your hand and places it on his arm, portraying the scene most Londoners expect. A couple in the spring, out for a stroll. He talks about the town, telling you about his favorite restaurants and music halls. He tells you he wants to take you to a play when you notice a name that you recall. 

“What is this place?” You stop in front of Lestar Manor. The sign is large and imposing with the name of the vampires who were blessed by the sun. 

“It’s almost like a joke,” he says. “The manor was abandoned and people swear it’s haunted now. I’ve never learned much more about it.” 

“I want to go look inside.” 

“Are you serious?” He frowns. “You refuse to do activities for a week, but want to explore a haunted mansion.” 

“So what? Let me explore it!” 

“We’re going home!” He says sternly, grabbing your arm. 

“Let go of me,” you hiss, pulling away. 

“For the love of all that is holy, stop acting this way and just do what’s good for you for once in your stupid life.” Graham raises his voice and you push him away from you. 

“If you touch me again, I’m going to scream.” You warn him. 

As you look around there is no one around, but you’re sure someone will hear you. Graham’s eyes go dark, his grin gone and his face contoured in anger. He steps towards you and you step back, but he’s faster than you. 

His grip on your arm hurts, so you begin to yell out. His hand clamps around your mouth and your eyes go wide. 

“Shut the fuck up, you stupid whore,” he hisses. 

“Let go of her,” a figure yells from the Lestar Manor. 

The voice makes your stomach drop and you try to pull away from Graham. As you turn your face, you see Atsumu standing in the shade of the Manor, his fists clenched at his sides. 

“Who are you to tell me what to do with my woman?” Graham spits back, letting go of your face. 

“Atsumu, go away.” You breathe out, your eyes welling up. 

He has no business butting into your life after sending you away to this fate. 

“Graham,” Atsumu hisses, stepping too close to the edge of the shade for your liking. 

“Graham, let’s go. Please,” you beg him, tugging him away from Atsumu. 

He smacks your hand away, missing your hand and hitting your cheek. You fall down on the sidewalk, catching yourself with your hands and scraping them. 

“Bastard!” Atsumu yells and before you know it, he’s launched himself at Graham, his skin vulnerable to the sun. 

“Atsumu! No!” You scream, watching as he punches Graham in the jaw. 

You expect his skin to start burning, or for him to catch on fire, or turn to dust. All your reading on vampires, none of it gave a solid answer to what happens when they go in the sun. Almost as if it was taboo to mention it anywhere. 

Nothing happens, in fact, Atsumu stands up over Graham’s body and looks at you with a smile. For whatever reason, he’s not dying in the sun. Did he discover something in the week that you were gone? Is that why he was in the Lestar Manor? Or is that the feeding house he mentioned before? 

Either way, you don’t want to hear from him. 

He broke your heart. 

You turn to run away from him and from Graham. As you take your first step, Atsumu catches your arm, and you turn to push him away. He pulls you into his arms instead, holding you against your body. 

“Atsumu, let go of me,” you sob, not pulling away but instead going limp in his arms. 

He picks you up, carrying you into the Manor and holding you against his chest as you sob. You hate him. You love him. You want him dead. You want him to give you the life you’ve always wanted. 

He doesn’t compel you to calm down, he just holds you as you cry. It takes a good ten minutes for you to gather yourself in his arms before you’re able to look up at him. His eyes aren’t glowing, instead, they’re the warm brown you love so much. 

“I hate you,” you whisper. 

“We told each other we would be honest with one another.” He shakes his head. 

“Atsumu,” you whine, “I love you more than life itself.” 

“I love you, —--,” he tells you. “You saved my life.” 

“What?” You frown. “You just saved me from that horrid Graham.” 

“Your blood…” he replies and you begin connecting the dots. 

“Lesair, Lestar… You don’t think that my family is?” 

He shrugs, “We need to find out the history of your family line before I can draw any conclusions... But since the night I drank from you, I’ve been able to walk in the sun. I was going to come find you and beg you to forgive me, but I needed to stop here first to collect some more books. That’s when I heard your voice and I saw him-” 

“You don’t have to explain. I’m just happy to be with you again.” You interrupt him. 

“I promise, I’m never letting you go now.” He tells you before kissing your lips. 

[loveshotzz]

Eddie Munson

18+

|One Shots|

Love Bites

Eddie hooks you up with an eighth after showing up to his place strapped for cash.

Closer

AU 1994: You have been playing this game of cat and mouse with the Corroded Coffin front man Eddie Munson for a few weeks now when his band would wander into the club after playing a show. Neither one of you willing to admit defeat and make the first move. You refuse to lose. Not to a rockstar.

Safe Space

You and Eddie share the same nightly routine but when he can tell you need an escape he offers up what makes him feel better.

Saturday Night’s Main Event

Saturday nights were always reserved for you and Eddie. Sharing his love for WWF he won’t let you watch Saturday Nights Main Event with anyone else.

Strangertober: Pumpkin

Carving pumpkins and watching Halloween, Eddie learns you have a new kink.

Strange Love

You and Eddie seem to hate each other, so why can’t you keep your hands to yourself?

Walls Could Talk

You warned Eddie what would happen if he was late picking you up because of Chrissy again.

Lilith 01

you won’t let Eddie get too close.

My Favorite Customer

You’ve been buying weed from your new dealer for a few months now. Always leaving it in your mailbox while you’re at work, you two never cross paths until one Friday night when you come home early.

I Was Made For Loving You

Eddie’s in love with you and can’t keep his hands to himself.

Rude Boy

fuckboy!eddie

Alone in a basement at Reefer Rick’s party, you finally catch Eddie’s attention.

Whatta Man - Eddie’s Night

After being stood up by a blind date at The Foxy Lounge, the cute bartender you’ve been ‘trying’ not to flirt with all night keeps you company.

|Series|

Burn One - completed - 5/5

When you move to Hawkins to start over, your new unexpected friendship with your weed dealer next door is your saving grace. It was never your intention to fall in love with him though.

New Years Eve - completed -4/4

You and Steve find comfort in each other trying to mend your broken hearts. Crossing the line at Steve’s New Years Eve party feelings start to get involved.

There’s a place for me - 1/?

On the run for wrongful murder charges, Eddie finds himself stopping in a sleepy ocean side town far enough from Hawkins where he can lay low for awhile. Running from the people that want him dead, his only hope is that his past doesn’t catch up to him. Especially when he meets the pretty eye’d waitress up the street.

|Requests|

* Reader gets into Eddie’s Dom Kinks.

* Eddie starts to notice a change in his virgin bestfriend.

* Perv!eddie x Perv!reader One & Two

* Surprising Virgin!eddie w/ roadhead

* Sex in the Hellfire Room

* Vampire!eddie x vampire!reader

* Eddie angst (very dark themes)

*hands