#Striper reader

[queenimmadolla]

jancy is standing next to each other in all the behind the scenes stuff so clearly they’re endgame, and if you think otherwise, congrats on being wrong.

[finalgirllx]

Mattheo's Nurse

my own take on a favorite trope - healing mattheo after one of his many, many fights. for @thatdammchickennugget's hogmarch challenge, the prompt i went off of was 'why do you do this for me? are you sure you're not in love with me?'

1.2k words | suggestive content | minors dni | f!reader implied

Becoming Mattheo Riddle's personal nurse was not part of your grand plan. However, an incidental run-in where you tended to him after a courtyard scuffle led him to recognize you as possibly the only person who would help him with concern devoid of judgment. That's how you fell into a routine of him 'just happening' to appear wherever you were settled, weaponizing his puppy eyes until you eventually agreed to patch up his wounds in order to minimize his visits to the hospital wing.

Mattheo had come to your dorm room tonight, causing you to let out a dramatic sigh, wordlessly directing him to sit on your desk chair while you fetched your ever-expanding collection of first-aid supplies.

As you inspected his marred knuckles with a light touch, he winced from the pain at the pressure points. There was some swelling, discoloration, and a hefty set of cuts all over his one fist. The drying blood along his joints seemed not to be his own.

"Oh, stop that," you chided him over his complaints. "Shouldn't you be used to the ache at this point? Damn masochist, aren't you," you continued, poking fun at Mattheo while casting 'glacius' on the water packs you had gathered just for this reason.

In response to your ribbing, Mattheo playfully bit his inner cheek, his expression shifting from pained to something more suggestive.

"You'd like that, I'm sure," he quipped. His eyes narrowed, trying to persuade yours to meet his as you applied the ice pack to his scratched hand. "You make quite the nurse," he continued, his voice dripping with flirtation. "And quite the sight, too. Seeing your pretty face distracts me from any wounds to my dignity. You think candy stripers are still a thing? Might be easier to tend to me in a shorter skirt," he added while his less injured hand found a comfortable resting spot where your waist met your hip.

"A better patient would stop causing such a distraction," you countered swiftly, deliberately avoiding that very gaze because you knew how quickly you would fold for the magnetism of his deep brown eyes. Yet, your actions defied your attitude as you allowed his hand to remain where it rested, his fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your clothing, which sent a shiver up your spine.

Mattheo smirked, indicating just how much he wanted to acknowledge what you both felt.

"Let me guess. You don't just carry around medical supplies because you want to play doctor," he mused. "I think you're helping me weekly because you're in love with me," he wiggled his brows, confident in his suggestion.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, silently conceding to the truth in his words but unwilling to admit it. Instead, you quickly regain your composure, lightly patting his cheek before adopting a more serious expression. "Hush, you're being disorderly. I can't fix you up with all this chatter," you scolded playfully, feigning annoyance.

Mattheo hissed, his eyes scrunching shut, reigniting your helper mode out of fear you had touched another sore spot. The guilt was short-lived, however, when the prick turned his head in both directions to show a bruise forming along the other side of his cheek, not the one you had touched. He just wanted to tease you, prompting you to retaliate with an additional pat out of spite on the uninjured cheek.

"Stop this. Remember, your life is in my hands; don't forget," you quipped snippily.

"Regardless of your consistent threats to my life, every time I come to you for help, I’m choosing to put my trust in you because you have feelings for me. And that's also why you're avoiding looking at me," he countered with a smug attitude, correctly assuming that this would finally get you to lock eyes with him. Which you did; looking right into his eager gaze paired with long lashes of everyone's envy. Even the few curls splayed over his forehead added to the appeal that despite him just coming from another bloody fight, you had to utilize every ounce of willpower to avoid melting at his ability to switch from intimidating to irresistible in an instant.

"Also, as my nurse, I’m surprised you don't know the cure-all to any injury," Mattheo begins again, and you suspect more nonsense is about to spill out.

You couldn't help but scoff. "What would that be?"

"A kiss."

You were utterly undone. "Bloody hell," you muttered, blushing profusely before deciding to indulge him this one time. You wouldn't quite treat him to some lip action, however. So instead of giving in entirely, you placed a small, modest peck on the tip of his nose.

The giddy expression that overcame him was worth it to see, but Mattheo, being himself, couldn't resist being a little greedy and pushing his luck further.

"Oh, on the nose? That only gets me halfway there," he complained with mock concern.

You could only smirk. Mattheo seemed to know better despite all attempts to convince him otherwise, which wasn't surprising given how perceptive he was. That, coupled with your consistent fumbling and his astute observation of your unwavering willingness to help him every time. Still, you weren't ready. While Mattheo's charm did get him quite far in leaving a lasting impression on you, you also knew that relinquishing yourself to the growing feelings would entangle you with the rest of his troubles, just as he would with yours. For now you'd prefer to let it simmer rather than dive right in. However, it didn't hurt to fantasize about how it would go.

For example, giving into the desire that your entire body ached for, to crawl into his lap and crash your lips against his. You longed to taste the metallic tang lingering from his blood-stained bottom lip that stirred with the scent of his cigarette addiction. You wanted to experience the absolute bliss that the softness of those pillowy lips would guarantee, all the while feigning surprise that this hardened bad boy could have any soft spots at all.

You craved to feel the hands responsible for splitting countless jaws roam your body with an unprecedented level of adoration, letting him fondle every last curve to ensure he learned all of it. You wanted him to discover all of your weak spots and master the art of caressing them in such a way as to elicit endless waves of pleasure every time. You yearned for him to possessively grope your ass, keeping yourself pressed to him as closely as possible while his other hand held the back of your head to draw out your kisses. His touches would solidify you as his, not just as his 'nurse' but in every sense that someone could belong to another.

Snapping yourself from drifting thoughts, you managed to deflect under the guise of needing to retrieve more supplies for an additional small cut you had overlooked. You came back, and despite your hesitancy, you wanted to leave Mattheo with a glimmer of hope.

"Tell you what," you started. "Let your hands heal so they can be of full use, and I'll grant you the other half of that kiss."

"Atta girl. That I can do," he grinned triumphantly.

"Yes, yes, now hold still so I can properly heal you."

[via-l0ve]

Hey pookie, how are you! I was wondering if you could do a romantic spn pref for sam, dean, castiel, crowley, and gabe? The plot would be that they're on a hunt with the reader and they have to infiltrait a strip club. The reader is female so she poses as a striper (she wears a white angle outfit). At one she pulls she pulls one of the guys into a private room to talk about the plan, but they see a camera in the room so the reader gives the guy a lap dance while explaining the plan as to not get caught. There is alot of sexual tension, and the guys have a crush on the reader. At this point they're only friends though. Thanks girl!

Private. (SPN Pref!) ❤️

a/n: i devoured this prompt. i am in heat. i hope you like this pookie!!!

warnings: SUGGESTIVE!!! read at your own risk, strip club, stripper!reader, lap dances, grinding, no actual smut but nsfw xx

Dean:

dean didn’t imagine this being his wednesday night.

his eyes watched you on the stage, walking around and pretending to be busy. the dainty Angel costume you were wearing hugged you in all the right places - just enough for him to imagine more.

in his distraction, he dosent realize you’re trying to get his attention.

he was suddenly pulled into one of the back, private rooms. he looked over and met your pretty eyes. he smiled.

“dean, i got info.” you smiled, closing and locking the door behind you both.

he was going to respond but his eyes caught something else. a camera. it seemed like you noticed too because you sighed.

dena watched you pull the chair to where the camera faced.

“sit.” you said in a seductive voice.

it’s just for the bit.’ dean reminded himself. he shakily sat down.

you walked toward him, back facing the camera. his eyes widened and face blushed as you started to give him a lap dance.

he was stiff as a board, too nervous to move.

“at least pretend you like it. we have to sell it so we don’t get caught.” you whisper in his ear, pressing kisses to his jawline.

shivers went down his spine and he nodded, grabbing onto your hips.

he stared into your eyes as you spoke, only being able to focus on the feeling of your hips on his, moving and grinding against him. his jaw clenched and he bit his lip, rubbing your hips with his thumbs.

you spoke about the case but he could barley hear you.

eventually you stopped, smiling at him.

“pay up, lover.” you grinned playfully.

he tried to hide his boner, giving you a forced smile as you walked away. his breath heavy and cheeks beet red.

—

Sam:

sam was nose deep in one of his papers of his research he scraped together. his cheeks were red, trying not to look up at you.

not because he didn’t want to - no. he wanted to. more than anything. but if he did, he knew he wouldn’t be able to look away.

despite his efforts, when he felt a hand on his shoulder he had to look up. it was you.

the white angel outfit you were wearing caught his attention. it was tight and revealing, something he wasn’t used to seeing you in.

“come with me.” you lean down and whisper to him. he just nodded, following you.

he then found himself sitting on a chair in one of the back rooms.

“there’s cameras. i have to play my part sammy.” you said to him, and he nodded

“anything you want.”

he blushed again as you started to give him a lap dance. his eyes widened.

you spoke softly about the case, but he could only focus on your body and how it moved atop of his own.

he pretended he was listening, but he was struggling. only feeling the fogginess of his mind and the weight of your body on his lap.

it was over much too soon for his liking

you got off of him and smiled.

“maybe we do this more often.” you said with a smirk.

—

Castiel:

poor boy

remember when he first went to the strip club

that’s him but x10 when he sees you

he’d never seen you in such clothing. not that he was complaining at all. if anything, he was ecstatic about it.

when you met his eyes from across the room, he got up and walked toward you immediately. you didn’t even have to ask (😍)

he followed you into the back rooms.

“cas. i gotta give you a lap dance.”

“what?”

“i’ve gotta play my part. is this okay?”

“…yes?”

castiel didn’t know what a lap dance was.

so when you started to actually do it

wowowowowow

he was gobsmacked.

his hands rested on your waist and he let you do whatever you had to do.

he bit back moans as he was so sensitive

but he listened intently to what you had to say about the case. his hips moved slightly with your body and his face was bright red.

he focused on your words but his eyes drank in how you moved against him and how his hands squeezed your hips

he could feel his dick throbbing against his jeans but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it

you got off of him eventually and he stayed sitting.

“c’mon. we gotta go.” you grinned and walked out before him. he was left with shaking hands and a red face.

—

Crowley:

he watched all of the people at the club with wandering eyes, stopping when he saw you

your outfit fit you perfectly and hugged you in all the right places

crowleys eyes wandered down your body as you came closer to him.

“come.” you said softly, leading him to the private rooms. he smirked.

“now, i didn’t know you wanted this, y/n.”

you just smirk and sit him down in the chair.

you start the lap dance, bringing your mouth close to his ear and whispering the plan to him, grinding your hips against his.

his hands ran over your body and hips, feeling the curves of your body and the softness of your skin

he was grinning, listening to the plan while also enjoying the thrusts and movements of your body

he wanted you to continue for hours. days. forever

but when you got off of him, he had to refrain from pulling you back onto his lap.

—

Gabe:

his eyes were on you from the start

he watched you with a passion, drinking in your appearance and how your white costume looked on your body.

the body he’d dreamed about seeing for months

that’s why he follows you into the back room without question

that’s also why he has to bite back moans when you start grinding against his lap, dancing

he watches with wide eyes, trying to listen to your words but drowning them out as he squirmed against your body weight

he gripped your hips and waist just a little bit too hard

he nodded along to the plan he wasn’t following, just watching your hips and body against his own

he let a groan slip from his lips at one point

his hips moving in rut him with your own

literally driving him insane.

but he’s not complaining

[gremlingottoosilly]

More König with striper reader?

Like reader finding out the club is now owned by König despite it being a bit run down?

Konig didn't care about this club. Wasn't built for elite audience, more for your general Joes and Hanses - more for people with little money, but big passions for mediocre girls dancing in front of them. Place was a good drug front and was so regular, that no police officer would ever think of going there - it was nice for the business, all things considered. Konig just pushed everything to his managers, never bothering to actually visit the place after buying it. He just heard something. His guy trying to fuck him over - trying to become the new sheriff in town. Dumb fuck, that's who he was - but Konig can't kill his men based on foolish assumptions. He had to check, had to play a good daddy for his business. Maybe prob for something else, check how the girls were treated - he isn't a monster, after all. Just a little bit disinterested in anything that isn't his primary weapon trade. This is how he met you. And was already sad that he didn't get to see you sooner. You were a vision. Pretty girl with a pretty face and nice moves - nothing exceptional, but you did have a few admirers. Konig could respect it, pushing you on his lap and making you dance. Whispering something about being the owner - you recognised immediately, your legs trembling just a little bit as you align your hips with his clothed cock. You were probably wondering just how far he would go - probably wondering how busted you were. Konig could only smile, pressing a little kiss to your jaw. Through the mask, it probably felt weird - he didn't care. He thinks of how much time he wasted by never going to this club before. You could be his wife for triple the time already - you could have been his pretty spoiled pet instead of rotting in some backyard club, entertaining morons. He could make you a star - but only for him. Always just for him. Konig kisses your shoulders, pulls at the straps of your bra - like an overgrown kid, he forces you to be as soft with him as possible. Breaking the rules of his own club - but he can, of course. being the owner of you and your ass. you just didn't recognise it yet.

[pricegouge]

Get Her a Dog (She'll be Happier For It)

Part Four | master list | taglist | MDNI

Soap x reader, Price x reader, eventual PriceSoap x reader

series cw: cheating. dubcon. angst. cuckholding. pet play.

chapter cw: angst, pining for another man's wife

reader is fem and fat

He's low on the boy's list of priorities, it seems, his first day back from medical leave leading him far and wide across base before settling into John's visitor seat so late in the day. John didn't mind that, was honestly surprised to see him there at all considering the shallow relationship the two of them shared. What he did mind was the chosen topic of conversation.

It's late when Soap comes, the sun low enough to shine through the slots of John's blinds. That peaceful golden hour when the dust motes dance distractingly. He never gets much work done on days like this, when the sun warms his back, coaxing him outside to enjoy a sunlit fall day - a right novelty in England. It's the only reason he'd accepted the visit, Soap's knock at the door finding John elbow deep in paperwork he wouldn't have the attention span for until the sun had at least dipped below the armory building, his tablet sitting idle just wasting battery. He's low on the boy's list of priorities, it seems, his first day back from medical leave leading him far and wide across base before settling into John's visitor seat so late in the day. John didn't mind that, was honestly surprised to see him there at all considering the shallow relationship the two of them shared. What he did mind was the chosen topic of conversation.

"She said she wants what?"

"Mah bairn, cap. A baby, ye ken?"

If not for the years of training lining John's belt, he worries what he'd do to the unnervingly bright eyes Soap has trained on him in that moment. He wants to blacken them, maybe pluck them out of his pretty, dense head. He wants to see them shiny and wet with tears, red rimmed and bloodshot - doesn't know what to do with the urge, and doesn't even fully understand where it stems from either. Instead he draws a careful breath, takes a moment to be sure his voice is steady by carefully straightening and locking the screen in front of him. Across the desk, Soap looks ready to vibrate out of his seat, nerves shot beyond recognition despite the weeks of recuperation he's just getting back from. John decidedly does not think too hard about how the bird's been keeping her man tired out, the edges of his jealousy already honed sharp.

"I ken, Soap. What's this to do with me?"

John expects embarrassment, perhaps confusion. Something to show either Soap is misguided, or perhaps that there's a connecting piece John himself is missing. But the boy's eager in his response, leaning across his captain's desk with no concept of decorum. "Ye gotta talk some sense into her, cap," he pleads. "She'll listen tae ye - always has. Ye gotta tell her why it's a terrible idea, that -."

"A terrible idea?" If his voice sounds calm, it's a testament to the damage a lifetime's worth of scotch and cigars have done to his vocal chords, the constant hoarseness allowing his anger to go unnoticed here. 

"Aye, we're no' ready for a bairn, cap - hardly more than kids ourselves," he whines, and not for the first time, John thinks maybe he's right. Except -

"You are an officer. In the S.A.S." 

Soap has the decency to blanch, at least. "And tha's another reason! Ah'm ne'er home, cap! The last thing she needs is tae be raising a bairn herself."

John shakes his head, breath puffing out of him like steam. He has an urge to break his stylus in half so instead places it on the desk with unnecessary force. "Son, were you a candy striper when you said those vows?"

"Sir -?"

"Candy striper or a soldier, Soap, what were you?"

John knows his man well enough to spot the deep flush working its way up from under Soap's collar, recognizes the low set of his heavy brow. The way he himself tenses to meet it would be admirable, if not directed at his own subordinate. "A soldier, sir."

"And when you promised that woman kids, were you selling shoes?"

"Ye have a point, ah assume?"

John glowers, unable to even muster the patronizing look he usually adopts for conversations like this. "My point, is I'm not sure what you expected to happen. You gave that woman your name. You made plans for children. So why's it a problem now?" Across the years, an echo of a similar argument rings in his ears, the pleas once used against himself now slotting into place, loaded - fully automatic. He couldn't say why he was helping the man across from him, though. Loyalty, maybe. More likely, his desperate need for closure lies somehow even stronger than his growing desire to rip the other man's relationship apart.

Soap splutters. "It's no' a problem, it's jes' tha' -." He stops, squints, seems to roll his tongue in contemplation. "Well, ye kno' how it is, cap. Ne'er gonnae be the righ' time in this job."

By some miracle, John doesn't take the bait. He takes a deep breath instead, thinks about the favor he'll be able to call in after he tells Kate how level-headed he's being today. "MacTavish," he says patronizingly, revels in the thrumming of a particularly aggressive vein in the boy's bare temple. "I do know how it is, so you can take it from me when I say it will never be the right time. But you can also take it from me that it won't matter to your bird. She is lonely and wants a babe, and you're going to give her one because that is what you promised you would do."

"Will nae," the scott seethes, leaning close across the desk again. "A bairn won't fix anything, cap. She jes' wants -."

There are times when John's ability to command a room - to command unruly gits like the sergeant across from him - takes even him by surprise. It does so now, when his voice curls deep and dark and low and damn near knocks Soap back on his ass. "And something does need fixing, does it?" Johnny just stares at his captain, deflated and lost. John sighs again, drums his thumb on the desk agitatedly, the wood worn from years of use, the same spot weathered by his many frustrations. The fight might have left the sergeant, but John's still desperately searching for something to lay into, his bruised ego telling him Soap's the source of all his troubles and right there, causing yet more. Still, he has to trust the man with his life, and telling Soap if he doesn't fuck a babe into his wife soon John himself will probably isn't conducive to that end so he bites his tongue - literally and figuratively - and drags his seat closer to the desk, works his pent up energy off by planting his boots too aggressively when he spreads his legs. All tells, all things he knows the boy is trained to watch for. His patience has bounds, though, and he couldn't care less if Soap clocked him for it. "If you want my advice, your bird's a soft one. She needs something to care for, so if you won't give her a babe, at least get her a dog."

Soap blinks, leans out of John's space - a subtle bow out he does nothing to make casual. John eats it like paid dues. "Soft," he repeats. John does not close his eyes in frustration, afraid of the supple curves burned into the back of his eyelids which await him there every night, every blink. "A dog?"

"You're familiar, I assume?"

The vein in Soap's temple throbs back to life, but the boy does a decent job of schooling his expression this time. "Aye, ah'm familiar." A beat passes, Soap flicks at John's stylus - likely too deep in thought to worry about the insult of it. John debates kicking his chair over anyway. "Can't have a dog at our place."

"Then buy her a proper house!" John thunders, too frustrated to find Soap's blindsided expression funny.

He regrets it when he gets the home warming invitation in the mail a month later.

[midorisplash]

Your Private Dancer.

Pairing: Striper!JakeWebber x OwnerDom!Reader.

A/N: Based of @samandcolby-ownme Story. I wanted to switch the roles so I had to write this real quick. Link to their story.

Warning: Praising, handjob, Gn!reader but use of ma’am once, name calling, Finger sucking.

“Jake!” You yell. He looks around a moment then over to you, as soon as he saw you face a smile plastering over his own sliding his hand down the staircase from the stage.

You smiled back watching him almost bounce his way over to you. “You looked amazing tonight sweetheart!” You spoke reaching a hand out and placing it at his waist.

“Did i?” He giggled feeling your hand run down along his waist to his ass slapping it while pulling him closer. He yelped and bit his lip. “Come with me.” You spoke pulling away grabbing hold of his hand and walking to your office.

He nodded quickly and let you drag him along, down a dark hallway to your office.

You walked over to your desk sitting down in your chair pulling him so he was standing infront of you.

“You wanted a private dance Huh?” Jake smiled. You nodded putting your arms on the chairs rest looking him up and down.

“I’ll do it. If you promise you'll touch me.” He whispered bringing his hands to his belt swinging his hips to the faint music being heard from the club. He started to slowly undo his belt turning his back to you pushing his butt out before sitting down on your lap wiggling his hip.

“You’ll touch me right?” He moaned letting his head fall back on your shoulder. You couldn't help smile.“You’re such a horny slut jake.” You whisper one of your hands coming to his neck as the other came around his waist taking his belt off and unzipping his pants.

“I’m your slut.” He whispered back.

You used your hand to pull his pants down enough his hard dick was exposed Jake lifting up his hips to help you. He groaned quietly at the cold air of your office hitting his tip while dragging his hand to the one you had on his neck bring it up to his mouth to suck your fingers.

“I’ll touch you, if you beg for it like the slut your are.” You whispered.

His hips thrusted up at your words pulling two of your fingers out his mouth. “Please touch me. I’m a horny fucking slut that needs your touch.” He whined. “Fuck I need it so bad. Please.” You smiled pleased with his begging pushing your fingers back into his mouth using your other hand to wrap around his dick, finally reliving some pressure.

He pushed his butt into your lap as your hand started to glide up and down his shaft a sticky layer of precum making you hand slide effortlessly. His eyes fluttered closed. “Thank you..” Jake groaned around your fingers. You kissed his shoulder up to his neck starting to suck barely, pulling your fingers out his mouth down to his pierced nipple rubbing at it with small circles. He smiled and wiggled his hips thrusting up in your fist.

As a warning you squeezed his dick biting his neck. “Fuck y/n!” He giggled through a moan.

“Tell me how good I did today. How much you love watching me.. Tell me I’m your fucking favorite.” You rubbed at his tip pinching at his nipple. “You did so good today, everyone couldn’t keep their eyes off you tonight. I’m so glad I get to have you all to my self.” You whispered close to his ear. His mouth hung open soft moans spilling out of him as his hips wiggled against your lap.

You pulled off his dick to flick his tip listening to him whine out in pleasure. “Ugh! Keep going please!” He whined. You flicked his tip one last time before wrapping your hand back around him jerking him off quickly.

With you one of your hands toying at his sensitive nipple and the other stroking his thick dick he couldn’t help get unbelievably close, his moans getting higher pinched with each stroke.

Jake brung his hand to his stomach rubbing at it in search to help ease the rough orgasm he was getting closer and closer too. You looked up to him watching his eyes squeeze tightly closed and his mouth fall open he was quiet for a short while before groaning loudly.

“I'm cumming!” He moaned.

You then pitched his sensitive nipple roughly leaving his shaft to stroke only his red tip cum spraying into the plam of you hand. He wiggled around gripping at the arm rest of your chair with his free hand. “fuck me! oh my god!” He whined rubbing his stomach before wrapping his hand arm around his waist.

He slowly opened his eyes squinting to watch his dick shoot a few more ropes of cum onto your hand.

You kept rubbing his tip until you noticed he was starting to settle down, then you pulled away holding your hand away from his body and yours. “look at the mess you made Jake. You know you have to clean up after yourself right?” He nodded weakly grabbing your hand and bringing it to his lips sucking at your fingers still trying to catch his breath from his orgasm. “Good boy.” You giggled patting his head.

He licked your fingers clean and smiled turning on your lap to look at you. “Now cover up and and get back on the stage for me? They all probably miss the best dance of the night.” He beamed and nodded. “Yes, ma’am..”

[cranberry-writes]

hey!! can i pls rq for more hughie x reader content?? there isn't much on here and i think we need to fix that

Occupation

Hughie x Reader

Genre; Mild angst but it’s all good at the end

Warnings; Cannon typical violence, language, talk of killing and mild spoilers for the first episode

This is a build from my Dating the Boys head-cannons, at the end of Hughies section i mention that reader would find out about his ‘job’ like two days after asking and getting nothing as a response. Also the scenario I used i completely made up, please bear with me i’m only partly on season 2. 

Uhhhhhggg i may have lightly chopped the ending up ill fix it later

also yeeesssss a request! i love requests!!!!

Synopsis; A few days after asking your boyfriend what he does for work and getting nothing for an answer, you accidentally find out his occupation in a way neither of you wanted.

You’re not sure what compelled you to ask Hughie what he did for work, maybe it was the strange hours he worked, or the fact he got hurt regularly, maybe it was but just good old fashioned curiosity that led you to asking him.

“So what do you do for work babe?”

The way he froze should have been enough of a sign that something was wrong, that you should have pushed him harder or asked more questions. But you didn’t, you just thought it was humorous in the moment.

His demeanor changed quickly, relaxed and focused on his phone to anxiously trying to look anywhere besides you. “I- well, I’m a tech guy? Like I don’t work for a tech company but I’m the tech guy, I work on tech stuff, it’s super boring you don’t want to hear about it.” He ended the rambling explanation with a forced chuckle

“So what do you want to do about dinner? We could go to that new Korean restaurant.” Glancing over to the clock you saw it was only 4, but decided to just play along. He didn’t have to tell you if he didn’t want to, you were sure there was a good reason, maybe he did something like a male striper and was embarrassed.

4 days later and a male striper would have been a dream scenario compared to this.

—

You didn’t mean to see him, or the rest of them. You were just running some errands and wanted to make a stop at a new store, taking a short cut through an older part of town that you were sure was abandoned.

You turned the corner and saw him, it took you a moment to recognize him because he was completely drenched in blood. You’re mind forced you into panic mode, you looked at the people he was with, none where familiar except for a taller gruff looking man. Wasn’t he the guy that was on the news for killing Stillwell?

You moved back to hide behind the corner you just turned, suddenly very aware of how loud your breath was and how heavy the bags in your hands were. Slowly placing them on the ground and moving your hands to cover your mouth, you stayed as still as you could. You could hear them moving and talking from around the corner as thousand thoughts running through your head.

‘Is this his job? Does he kill people?’

‘Oh god, if he gets caught could i get in trouble??’

Then finally, the loudest thought drained the rest of them out

‘wasn’t Homelander, the Homelander after that Butcher guy?’

That thought managed to turn into cement inside your head, what if Homelander was after Hughie too?

“Oh shit.”

The words, while still quiet, left your mouth faster than you could stop them. You stoped your breathing as you heard Hughie and the others stop talking, after a moment you could hear a pair of foot steps approaching where you hid. 

Before you could run or scream or anything, a pair a rough hands where holding you against the wall, you grabbed and scratched at them desperately. “Please! I won’t tell anyone! I promise!”

Your luck must have completely failed you because Butcher was the one currently strangling you, the one convicted of murdering a single mother, was trying to kill you.

Somehow through the fog of being suffocated and also begging for your life, you could hear your name before being dropped to the dirty concrete floor. Your palms getting scraped harshly against the ground wasn’t even something you registered, you where to busy desperately trying to regain your breath, breathing hard and gasping for any bit of air.

You looked up, seeing Hughie and the asshole who just tried to kill you arguing. You would have been surprised with him arguing with a murderer so passionately, but it had hardly passed your mind at the time. You did manage to notice the other people there, a shorter man with a buzz cut facial hair combo and an asian woman with the prettiest hair you’d seen where staring at you.

You stood up slowly after a moment, looking back at Hughie who had since stoped arguing. “Is this, your job? You work with a murderer?” You gesture vaguely to Butcher, before redirecting your attention back to him.

He looked down, giving you a good view of his now blood red hair. “..I wanted to tell you, I just didn’t know how. I’m sorry.” “I don’t think anyone wants their boyfriend to tell them that their work involves them getting covered in blood.” Hughie looked down at his clothes as if he hadn’t noticed before.

It took a minute for you to properly regain your self, taking in your surroundings fully, the people around you, the situation.

“Are you even safe? Doing, whatever this is?” He tilted his head up at you, gradually shaking it side to side. “Not always.”

You probably hated asking that question the most, and his answer (while completely expected) scared you. Having a partner who was doing something stupid was something, having one doing something stupid and dangerous was another.

“You won’t die doing this, okay? Tell me, you won’t die.” The words were choppy and tense as you spoke, it probably sounded more of a decree than a request or question, but in reality it was a plea.

“I won’t die doing this.” He took a slight step forward, reaching a hand out in offering. Instead you grabbed him and pulled him into a hug that he reciprocated quickly. The partly dried blood on his clothes made it mildly uncomfortable but you powered through it, desperate for any comfort.

You stayed like that for a moment, savoring the moment. You pulled back and looked at him, making sure to hold his arms tightly. “We will not be talking about this at home, or ever unless your life is in danger. Please.”

Hughie smiled, and you felt calmer. He moved closer and kissed you on the cheek before stepping back “Not a peep, not a single peep.”

[theoldsports]

Hi, i want to request a remus x reader, where its a girls night before lily's wedding and they play a spicy truth or dare, where reader realises she needs to ask remus out.

tradition.

FIRST REQUEST SORRY THIS TOOK TIME

1.7k

Bachelorette parties were a time honored tradition where the bride-to-be wore heels that were too tall to be worn drunk and got legendarily plastered with about seven of her worst behaved friends. Lily Evans (soon to be Potter) was almost an exception, but Dorcas bought her these platform go-go boots and it felt rude not to wear them.

Lily assumed the event would be less of a nightmare if [Y/N] planned it, as Dorcas usually took things too far. This way, Lily could almost guarantee that there would be no Chip and Dale-type striper dressed as the left-winger chaser from Puddlemere United. [Y/N] was therefore the most convenient choice for Maid of Honour.

Carefully, the bridal party made their way out of the Three Broomsticks and hauled themselves up the hill to do the rest of the night in Godric’s Hollow. All of them were too far gone to apparate. Sirius had taken James and the boys who knows where for a Bachelor party so the girls could use the house that night. The ‘girls’ consisted of Lily and [Y/N], Dorcas Meadowes, Mary Macdonald, Marlene McKinnon, and Alice Fortesque; basically the contents of their dormitory at school. The seven hung off each other and giggled as old friends as they walked.

“Never thought you’d be the first of us!” Marlene cried in glee, shaking her sharply bobbed dark hair out of her face. “I can’t get over it. Simply.”

“Oh, come off it!” Lily groaned. She was awfully tired of hearing this same banter recycled day in and day out.

Dorcas laughed. “Well, yeah. Marls is right. You hated your poor bastard Potter, for, like, forever. I thought first in and out of the binding contract of marriage was to be Alice and Frankie for sure.”

The most sober player of the evening, Alice, sighed. “Sorry that we’re patient.”

[Y/N] let out a firm laugh, pulling Lily’s set of keys out of her pocket as the house entered their line of view. “Bold assumptions from both Dorcas and Marlene considering you both told me you were gonna marry Sirius Black when you were fifteen or something.” [Y/N] said. Her comment illicited silence from Dorcas and Marlene rampant giggled from Mary, Lily and Alice.

With their Godric’s Hollow destination reached, [Y/N] unlocked the door with some difficulty. The seven flooded inside. Before Mary could loudly announce how bad she had to piss again, [Y/N] asked: “I’ve got a quick question ‘bout Black, actually,” everyone seemed very interested because everyone [Y/N] knew was in love with Sirius Black - unfortunately. “How many of you’v’fucked him? Just… Show off hands.”

Many groans of malcontent echoed through the room. Dorcas and Marlene raised their hands without hesitation, but instead with a bit of regret. Mary’s hand slowly went up with a sigh. Lily and Alice exchanged some knowing looks but both resisted a comment. “Bloody hell, ladies. Is he actually packin’ or something? He’s not that tall, so… Nice hair, but if he weren’t one of my mates, I’d just say he’s average. How does he keep pulling like this?” [Y/N] asked incredulously.

As Mary left finally to piss, Marlene bit back at [Y/N]. “Honestly, I think he’s just charming. Like, something about the smile, the leather jacket. Plus, he’s so fuckin’… noble, like. Yeah?”

“Noble? A guy’s a better fuck ‘cause he’s ‘noble?’” [Y/N] sighed.

“You know what I mean.” Marlene said and Dorcas nodded in agreement.

Dorcas piped up. “Well, [Y/N]. You may be the next among us. Ain’t the Maid of Honour and the… What’s it called? Man of Honour—“

“—Best Man.” Alice correct, pouring herself a sipper of firewhiskey.

“Ain’t the Maid of Honour and the Best Man meant to fuck? After the wedding?” Dorcas finished.

[Y/N]’s eyes widened. “No. Superstition. Clearly. I… Right, Lily?”

Lily’s playful grin widened as she pulled off her go-go boots and tossed her auburn hair into a messy bun. “Well, seeing as neither of you have a real date, then have at it. It’s tradition.”

“That’s vile. You’re vile.”

Mary walked back in from the bathroom. “Who’s vile?”

“Lily. Or Sirius. Can’t remember. Maybe both.” Marlene clarified.

“Ah, he is ‘packing,’ by the way. If nobody’s said that yet.”

[Y/N] was tired of everyone pushing her buttons because she had been single for a while. Single, yes. Desperate enough to shag Sirius Black, no. “Fabian Prewett was not worth all the trouble to keep that relationship going just to have a date to your wedding.” She said.

“He was so pretty!” Dorcas remarked, a drunken slur apparent in her voice.

“Yeah, and he was also a prick. Anyway, there’s no sense in finding someone with, like, days til the wedding.”

Lily sighed loudly. She knew what she was doing. It was that sort of sigh that baited someone to ask why one was sighing.

“What?” [Y/N] asked, scoffing.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.”

Strained silence as all the other girls leaned into listen. “Oh, I’m sure. What’s the problem here?”

“James said one of his boys also doesn’t have a date to the—“ Lily started.

“You already implied Sirius—“

“Remus. Rem doesn’t have anyone.”

A longer, more strained silence.

Marlene gasped. “Holy fuckin’ shit. You should finally ask Remus out.”

“Finally? What do you mean finally? He’s my best mate.” [Y/N] said incredulously.

The other girls shared groans of indignation or shouts of surprise. “Dear, every boy you’ve ever been out with looks like a cheap knock-off of Loony Loopy Lupin. You have to have noticed.” Marlene pointed out.

“Don’t call him that!” Lily butted in.

“Don’t call him that. He doesn’t like it. And simply, I don’t think that’s true. About the boy thing.” [Y/N] insisted.

“Amos Diggory.” Mary said clearly. Amos had been her very first boyfriend. [Y/N] finally said yes to his obvious advances after Remus took a Slytherin girl his friends all hated to Hogsmeade. Amos had then been the same height and build as Remus, with those aggressively kind eyes. However, he was nothing like Lupin in any other way.

“They’re both tall with brown hair. So’s James for that matter—“

“Amos is just the polite version of Lupin. They’re practically the same bloke.” Mary finished he brutal comment and strolled into the kitchen.

“Tony Dolohov—“ Lily pointed out. Antonin Dolohov had been a rebound repeated hookup after Amos had broken up with [Y/N] since he thought she was too ‘disinterested’ in him. It was familiar commentary that Remus and Dolohov looked similar. They were constantly mistaken for the other from the back in school, despite being completely different as people.

“Was a fling!”

“Evil Lupin…” Dorcas sighed.

[Y/N] was ready for another topic of conversation. “So what? I like tall brunette guys from the countryside. Sue me. Fabian Prewett was from out there too, but he was completely—“

“Mm… Yes. Redheaded, pretentious Lupin.” Dorcas grinned tempestuously.

Mary gasped. “That implies our Lupin isn’t pretentious!”

Alice cleared her throat amidst [Y/N] evident shame and irritation. “If you don’t mind my saying, [Y/N], you’ve been down for that boy since you were about fourteen. Lupin, I mean.”

[Y/N] watched Lily nod drunkenly at wise old Alice’s words. “Call him! Call him right now!”

“Fuck you! No!”

Before [Y/N] could do anything else, Marlene began leading a chant of “call him!” with others shouting such fare as “come on, don’t ruin Lily’s party!” That was when she had to pick up the phone, just to get it to stop.

She stood there, listening to the dial tone hum. “Shit. What number am I ringing? He’s not… He’s with James.”

Lily whipped out her wand from her back pocket and wordlessly summoned a number jotted down on a takeaway menu from who knows where in the kitchen. Lily dictated the number to [Y/N], just to make sure she would actually make the call.

“‘Llo?” Sirius Black slurred on the other line. [Y/N] had often heard him wasted, but he was gone-gone tonight. He spoke too loudly into the receiver. After multiple semesters of Muggle Studies, he still hasn’t mastered the telephone.

“Black, it’s [Y/N].”

“Hey there, love,” Sirius suddenly sounded on edge. The world was a scary place these days and such a call was scary to get this late during a bachelor party. [Y/N] thought he sounded more sober, or tried, after she announced herself. “‘S everything okay…?”

“Hm? Yeah, no. All’ve us are fine. Is Lupin there?”

“What you want with Lupin?” Sirius inquired, his tone sounding much more typical of a drunk Sirius Black.

[Y/N] looked over her shoulder at the expectant faces of the girls and an encouraging thumbs up from Alice. “Uh, drinking game, or something. Put him on. Please.”

Sirius sounded like he dropped the receiver away from his face and called something like “Oi Moony, there’s a foxy bird on the phone for you!” into the room near him. After some shuffling and unintelligible grumbling, Remus’s voice came through on the phone.

“Remus Lupin on,” he said too clearly. The kind of clearness of tone one had when stoned out of their mind and attempting to cover it up. But at least he knew how to use a phone. “Who’s speaking?”

“Lupin, it’s me. It’s [Y/N]. Everything’s fine.”

“Oh. Hi?”

“Yeah, hi. All the boy’s watching you right now?”

“Uh,” a pause. “No, yeah. All of ‘em.”

“Same here. Holding a wand to my chest, basically. You still don’t have a date to the wedding, right?”

A longer pause. “Hm? To the wedding, you said?” He swallowed. Dry mouth from nerves or smoking too much, maybe. “No.”

“Right. Nor have I. Wanna go with me? Since we already both, like, have to go? Figured it’d be fun to go with you,” [Y/N] dropped her voice to a whisper. “Like, go-with-me-go-with-me. Real deal date.”

Too long of a pause.

“Remus? You there?”

“Yeah. Yeah! Sure, I’m here, sure. Also, like, yeah, sure. I mean, yeah. I’ll go with you. If you want, I mean. Yeah.”

[Y/N] sighed in relief. “Brilliant. Pop by before and get me. We’ll go together. Ta.”

With that, she hung up.

“Ta?” Dorcas said dramatically. “Ta? You ask the man out and you close with fuckin’ ‘ta?’”

[venicebitchxxx]

Fire and Ice

Zade meadows x reader 

ZADE IS NOT MY CHARACTER! This is just a fanfiction of h.d carltons haunting adeline turned into a x reader!Sorry Adeline…

TW: Swearing, Dacryphillia, Gun play…,Degradation, little praise, pet names, Handcuffs, fast paced

Word count: 0.6k

I walk home to find another rose on my doorstep Dammit that fucker wont  leave me alone I swear the erectile dysfunction radiates off the roses.

I strom inside and throw it away I am tired of the creepy fuck controling my life I am done, I walk into my bedroom setting my purse down when I hear a a low chuckle my head whips around to see a tall maybe 6’7 man hooded standing the staring at me.

Hi little mouse did you miss me he smiles, I am unable to see his face but his voice comes off husky and low, a wave shock of fear and panic runs through me I am standing there almost feeling stuck and helpless until he walks toward me when i open the door and run. I don't look back and i hear him doing that stupid chuckle again until he said, You can run and hide all you want y/n but if I catch you I fuck you. I ran into the basement hiding in the closet but it's all I could think of. I am too scared to think.

His footsteps were heard from down here. I am coming for you little mouse! I hear him say I bawl up In the closet and cry a little into my hand, I hear footsteps coming down the stairs as the closet door rips open and he is staring down at me with a

wide grin, Oh little mouse dont cry I am not going to hurt you that bad.

I try to escape and he scoops me up like nothing and throws me down, handcuffing me hands above my head to the striper pole in the basement,I am now regretting that drunken purchase.

Let me go you sick fuck! I said screaming tears running down my cheeks. His finger goes under my chin and he kissed my forehead wiping away my tears  “Oh little mouse no need to be so hostile its ok princess.” I love it when you cry little mouse he said with a smile. He takes out a gun and caresses my body with it, I am going to make you cum on it little mouse.

If your going to kill me can I atleast know your name so I can call you other things than the sick fuck you are.

Zade little mouse my name is zade meadows, Now scream my name as I shove my gun in your tight pussy. He lifts my hips up and takes off my pants feeling the cold metal hit my clit, my eyes flutter as I moan gripping onto the pole.

Yes moan for me my slutty little mouse, He moves the gun down and shoves it inside me grinning ear to ear as he trusts the gun inside me, I gasp and moan my legs shaking as the tears come down my cheeks. Yes good little mouse! Cry for me, you're a pathetic whore! I cry harder and scream out in pleasure.

Fucking cum on it now he demands. And My body shakes with white hot pleasure. Good little mouse he praised as he continued to trust the gun in and out of me before pulling it out dripping with my juices. 

He kissed my forehead and uncuffed me as I watched him leave wondering who the fuck is zade meadows.  

[deadqueerboys]

Bottom! George x Top! Male! Reader

Short One Shot (I'm drvnk)

George has been quiet for a while now. He only nods or bury his head in the pillow, not giving M/n the satisfaction of hearing his boyfriend's sweet moans. It happens that George was on stream, he couldn't give himself the privilege of whimpering and showing to his viewers how much of a bitch he was.

M/n grabs George's wet hair again, pulling him back as their hips make a sweet and loud slap. He feels the pain and the pleasure of George's body. it's almost anesthesia. The top slaps his ass and thrusts harder inside that fucking twink, eating the shit out of his weak body. M/n can't stop but feel the urge of fake moan, he wants other people to hear it and pretend he was the one being banged. But, every time he tries, George stops him with a kiss or another beg for a slap.

"Please, keep going.." George whispers, bouncing on M/n's lap like a professional striper. He goes up and down, only asking to he pleased as he tries to take his white dumb clothes off. "Just keep going."

[nishiyako]

OH MY GOD….please more of Rave boy denki!!!

Maybe they meet at the bar and end up at one of each other’s apartments…..

Private Party 2 (NSFW)

Paring : RaveBoy!Denki x RaveGirl!Reader

Tags : Motorcyclist!Denki, Slight Dycryphila, bar setting, alcohol (mostly Tequila), body shots, peer pressure, recorded (body shots), motorcycle ride, handcuffs, missionary, vaginal penetration, cream pie, nails, happy ending!

Summary : You meet up with the boy you hooked up with at the rave at a bar with some friends, after some chatting and body shots, he decides to give you a ride on his motorcycle and take you back to his place for a round two.

Click here for ⤵

Private Party (pt. 1)

You wearing his T-shirt and staring at the new contact on your phone and love bites on your neck, your friends started asking questions.

You arrive at the bar around midnight with your friends talking about the blonde you met at the rave, the music was loud but weak enough for you to hear their eager whispers.

"What was his name?" One of them asked. You never got his name, to be honest. All you got was his number. "What does he do for a living?" Another voice asked. You also didn't know. All you knew was that he had enough for V.I.P. tickets at the rave. "Was he cute?" Fainally, a question you could answer.

"The cutest," you said enthusiastically, he had this bright blonde hair and yellow eyes that shined in the dim litted bathroom stall, his gentle hands that held you up against the wall, peirced ears that listened to evey noise you made.

The more you spoke, the more interesting the conversation became.

The bar door creaks open as you see your blonde lover with some friends, another spiked light blonde, a redhead and one with matte black hair followed with a pink alien, they were an interesting cast to say the least.

Kaminari saw you sitting on a stool wearing his familiar T-shirt, a smile formed as he walked towards you.

"You actually came." You were surprised, honestly, but you had no idea what you had done to his simple mind. "Why wouldn't I?" He said with a laugh.

Cute girl invited you to a bar with friends, who could say no?

The groups introduced themselves to eachother, shaking hands and exchanging names yet you and Denki never broke your eye contact, eyes filled with lustful intentions.

Still remembering the little rendezvous you had in the bathroom stall.

Once everything settled down, Denki called a worker, the first one he saw. "Mind if I get a V.I.P room for my party?" He tried to say it under his breath, but that didn't stop your friends from noticing.

Your group (including you) watched as he handed the suited worker a black card with his name on it. Your friends smiled at each other before giving you a grin as well, cute and rich? You seem like you've gotten the full package in one night.

You all get ushered to the room, LED lights rimming the ceiling and silky sofas against the walls, different art pieces and plants were hung on display as everything was centered by a striper pole and stage.

Hand selected shelf of different kinds of alcohol and Hennessy behind a private bar as the worker fetched an extra bartender from the bar.

Everyone took their seats on the velvet couches ofcourse forcing you and Kaminari to sit beside each other.

The groups were starting to merge as you and your little "boyfriend" kept to a separate world, getting to know each other.

Denki Kaminari, UA graduate and taking a year off before college. He already made good money from subtle hero work, and he lives alone in an apartment.

This is what you learned after some minutes of chatting

The bartender was positioned behind the table as the group started their orders (which are all paid by Denki).

The speakers were connected to Mina's phone as she played the music for the group.

Still the same EDM music they played at the rave since both parties were present.

The get-together was peaceful, tame even. until someone mentioned body shots, you weren't sure who started it, but this started to quickly spread as they started talking about you and Kaminari doing some for the camera.

You feel like you were back in highschool, being paired with your crush for people's amusement.

You looked at Kaminari, both cheeks already flushed red as the thought of licking your body flooded his once voided brain.

"Wanna do it?" He asked you for the crowds excitement, "what's a- body shot..?" You asked, countering his question, "I can't tell you, but I know you'll like it." His smile seemed genuine as he waited for your response.

Slightly smudged eyeliner highlighting his electric yellow eyes that were staring into yours, his smirking lips you could kiss forever if he'd let you. How could you say no?

You nodded as they started taking out their phones in excitement, "Take off the shirt, I'll just get some stuff." He said, standing, and you followed what he told you to do.

Laying shirtless, wearing only your bra as you were hugged by the velvet of the sofa as he brought over tequila, salt, and some limes.

"This is gonna be a bit cold, okay?" He told you, he made a line of salt down your shakey body and placed a cut lime in-between your lips making it possible to sound every embarrassing sound you made, he started to twist the cap of the vodka as he poured the Tequila in the valley of your stomach.

He held your hand as you anticipated his next move. Tough tye rules said not to. He could help it. Tequila on your belly, salt up your body and a lime in your mouth. Everything was perfect.

Cameras were rolling as your friends knew you never encountered anything like this.

He started drinking the tequila off your body, warm lips against your soft skin. He then licked the fine salts off your equaly fine body, making you shiver as he tasted you like the treat you were. he then pinned over you, taking the lime from your mouth, lips almost touching like a broken kiss.

He threw his head back, sucking in all the flavors of the lime before spitting the hollow skin on the rugged floor. Your shared friend groups cheered as the cameras were lowered, now saved in electronic memory.

"You okay?" He asked you with a laugh, you were speechless, you didn't know what to say, so you just nodded. Cheeks red and eyes fixated on him and him alone.

Your little reactions were priceless. He's defenetly gonna ask one of the friends to send the video later. Just so he can have the memory in his own pocket.

The shirt back on and the party continuing, everyone decided to keep drinking, laughing and groups only getting closer as you and Denki also grew closer.

He watched your legs press together, rubbing for an addictive friction. The cause is his little tequila stunt staring at your body.

"Hey," you heard him whisper in your ear. You looked at him with curious eyes, "How about..." he pointed to you, then to himself then to the door. You laughed at his offer, "No, I'm serious, I'll drive." He says, pulling out some keys.

He drove alone, his friends had a separate car from him so they wouldn't notice if he was gone. You didn't understand his logic. Why wouldn't they just be in the same car?

You both snuck out of the bar with his red-headed friend Kirishima. He had swore to secrecy as he opened the passenger seat of his pick-up to fetch two motorcycle helmets.

"You drive safe 'kay? That Tequila was pretty strong." He said passing the helmet to his friend, tone was obviously worried."We'll be fine! Thanks again man, no idea what I'd do without you."

"That's what bros do," the redhead responded, laughing before giving him a fistbumb. Their bond was almost brotherly as they said their goodbyes for the night.

Kirishima rushed back into the building as you followed Denki to a farther parking area while you held a helmet in your hands.

Then you saw it, a flashy Yamaha R6 with custom yellow and scene decals scattered on the metal. Parked beside some boring Harley Davidson cruisers, it made it look even cooler.

"My place or yours?" He asked as your brain started to connect the dots, and now it made sense that he drove differently. "Yours is fine." You say, though it wasn't smart to come over to a guy place when you just met him, you knew kaminari wasn't the type to do something wrong.

He is starting in the hero business, after all. He wouldn't be heroic to take advantage of a girl so late at night.

He placed the helmet on his head, visor and metal now covering his face as he put on some gloves, using velcro to tighten them still colorful bracelets over the fabrics.

You the followed his lead, placing the extra helmet on your head as he helped you onto the shiney sports bike.

He reved the engine, it was loud, ear piercing actually.

You held onto his waist, pressing your chest against his back. His gloved hand caressed yours as the bike started moving out of its parking.

He did mention he did a few street races, mostly drag races. Bike with 599 cc carried the both of you with ease on the road as cars were rearly around at this hour, it's really felt like just you and him were in the world.

You held on as the both of you rode through the city watching the lights fly by the both of you, you rested your head on his back as you watched the setted night sky glimmer faintly with stars, once at a stop light, you felt his hands hold yours as if to ask if you were okay, you just snuggled closer as you felt safe with him.

You snuck one of your hands under his white muscle tank as a giggle slipped out of your lips. It sent shivers up his spine. Your soft hands caressing his skin as he tried his best to focus.

"Keep doing that, and we might crash." You heard him laugh, sentence slightly mumbled by the helmet on his head. If you were gonna tease him, why not go all the way?

Your other hand ventured down to his hips, the to his sensitive inner thighs. "I don't think that's a good idea -" quivers in his breathy sentence made his visor fog.

You were risky, and he loved that.

Once you both arrived, he didn't waste a single second, taking the helmet from your hands and storing in some cabinet.

You saw his apartment pretty tacky, but you appreciated the posters on the wall, all good bands and artists you recognize.

His hand held yours, pressing you to the door you entered from. "You fuckin' tease, couldn't even control yourself." He accused, ready to ravish you right then and there. Two times in one night? This boy was an animal.

His leg pressed between yours, pressing against that special spot in between your legs. What made it worse was the thing denim you were still wearing.

His lips pressed against yours in a kiss, still tasting the salt-lime vodka on his lips.

His tounge violated you mouth as you could do anything but squirm in his hold, he wouldn't even let you come up for air until you hand to dig half-moons into the back of his palms with your nails.

You try to catch your breath, saliva coating your lips.

"Down for a round two? sweets." The nickname being a reference to your sweet lips and sounds. He waited for your response.

You thought about your friends, how you ditched them again for some blonde, a sense of guilt plagued over you.

But Denki left his too, in a sense the both of you are equal.

Both of you so needy for eachother that you've snuck off twice was almost laughable, almost like it was love.

"Only if you want to." You reasoned, smile formed on his lips as he showed you to his bedroom.

He let you lay down on his bed as he undressed you with his own hands.

Fainally, seeing you naked in front of him left him speechless, admiring as he towered over you.

Eyes tracing every curve and detail of your body, memorizing even the smallest details.

"You're still fucking breathtaking." He complimented, fucking you in a bathroom stall was something but having you bare in his own bed ment something to him.

The lights were dimmed as he undressed himself in a hurry, kicking off his baggy jeans and slipping off his muscle tank and jewlery as you waited patiently, watching his body move as his painted nails snatched the fabrics.

The then climbed on top of you, having you under him while his hands held your writs, restricting you like an animal with its prey.

Your hair spead on his pillows as he forced your hands above your head, then you suddenly heard a click.

You struggled to move your hands free from the metal restraints as he kneels in between your spread legs

"Ever been fucked in handcuffs before?" He asked slapping down his underwear, alredy springing out rock hard, white pearls on the top of his flushed and impatient tip.

"This is defenetly a first.." you confessed, who knew rave boys would be so deviant?

He positioned against you, tip just breath inside your heat.

The blonde slowly pushed in, making you feel fuller every inch that enters. You let out a sharp moan as he fully enters you. He curses under his breath, feeling you take him so nicely.

He lifted your hips at an angle to enter you carefully, he saw you, eyes closed and mouth agape moaning like a whore, he loved rave chick's but he felt something new with you, seeing you so vounrible he wanted more of you.

His hands wandered to your waist, caressing your soft skin keeping you planted on his sheets making you resist the temping bounce of his cock.

Black painted nails digging into your skin from pleasure. It stinged on your skin, yet everything still felt so good, so addictive.

Having a second round made the both of you even more sensitive than before. It was like everything got turned up a hundred percent.

Looking so fucked out from all the sensations, nails digging into you, cold metal around your struggling wrists, and cock plowing into you harder than ever.

He wanted to get you addicted, so cock drunk you couldn't think of anyone else, just him.

Using sex wasn't the best way to make someone fall inlove with you, but the way he handled you you started to second guess that fact.

Moaning into eachothers agape mouth, heavy breaths and moans echoed through the room.

Your legs wrapping around his waist to bring him deeper into you, your insides alredy the shape of his cock.

Prefect little cock sleeve. That's what he took you for in the moment, but he knew you were more than that after a little chat and vodka.

"You're such a good fuck, yknow that?" He complimented, breath and voice shakey as he reached his limit. He didn't know what to say nor what he could do to show you but all he wanted was for you to feel good.

And danm did you, insides so sore as the bed creaked from your joint movements.

"Kami' I don't think I can -" You cut off your sentence at the feeling of the knot in your stomach threatening to snap at any moment.

His eyes looked at tours, half hooded and filled with desire. His head snooped lower, mouth almost against your neck feeling his impatient breaths against your skin.

You couldn't take it, everything was too much. The pleasure has gotten you overwhelmed as tears puddled around your eyes.

Nothing hurts. Nothing was uncomfortable. But the pleasure and pain pushed you past your fragile limits.

The knot snapped. Your eyes widen as you feel his warm seed inside you, making the mix fluids seep onto the bed sheets.

Legs shaking as your body was against his, hands struggling with the secure handcuffs.

You calmed down from your little high, as you caught your breath.

He looked up to see you.

His hair was a mess and a small drool at the corner of his agape mouth, his hooded eyes now at attention as he saw you.

Tear stains down your cheeks as you tried to find breath.

He panicked for a bit. He never had a girl cry during sex but why did he kind of like it?

Seeing you so satisfied to the point of tears made his alredy insane ego only shoot higher.

"You okay?" His voice smooth as silk. You nodded, thankfully for tonight.

A few moments later, out of the handcuffs, he has his arms wrapped around you for your comfort, your eyes barely opened.

Suddenly you sit up from him, releasing yourself from his cuddles, you didn't take him for the clingy type but you weren't complaining.

"I should get going. Who knows what time I'll be home if I don't start moving now." You say, a pout formed on his lips. He didn't want you to go anywhere.

Then an idea formed in his void of a brain "or you could sleep over" his suggestion was unexpected, you mean this isn't just a one night stand?

You asked him if he was sure. You thought he just wanted to hook up. You could tell he was kind of offended at your guess.

"No? I really like you and I think this could be something, maybe something serious if we try." He said, hand holding yours, "if you're down, of course."

Being his girlfriend the same night you met him was risky but whose gonna stop you.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Small smile formed on your lips as you snuggled against him one more.

3 years later, he still calls you 'sweets' stealing kisses from you and calling you 'sweetheart' if he's feeling cheesy.

Taking you to raves and motorcycle rides whenever he can. Making you feel divine every time you and him are together.

For 'just a guy at an EDM festival', he'd make a great husband.

•••

A/N : AHHHH, I've been waiting to write another RaveBoy!Denki fic! I'm so happy someone likes this promt as much as me. Thank you so much for the ask and suggestions, Anon! <33

[captain-tch]

Candy Striper (Eddie Munson x PlatonicGN!Reader)

You help look after the Munson family while Eddie is in hospital

He was here, again. Mr Munson was slumped in the chair beside Eddie's hospital bed, his hand weakly lying next to Eddie's. He looked like a puppet with the strings cut, and from the clothes he was wearing, he hadn't gone home. 

"I don't think I've ever seen him leave." The nurse besides you piped up. "Eddie coded last night and he's not moved since."

Your heart panged for him. You couldn't imagine the pain Eddie's uncle was going through. When Eddie arrived in the hospital only two days ago, no one believed he would make it through the night. But he was still here, after a few cardiac arrests and one major surgery, he was still here. He was nothing like the boy you exchanged awkward smiles with in class, his body lacking the life he always exuded. 

"It must be so hard." You mused, leaning against the counter. You mindlessly smoothed the fabric of your candy striper apron down. "Is there anything I can do?"

"There's some coffee in the staff room. Strictly for staff, only." She enunciated the words, nodding her head slightly to the side. "You look tired, why don't you grab a cup?" 

The pieces fell together, and you nodded your head. "Yeah, I think I will actually." 

You stood up from the desk, striding towards the staff room. The room was surprisingly quiet, the nurses having little chance to get a break with the sudden flood of earthquake victims. Looking over your shoulder, you reached for the coffee pot, pouring it into one of the disposable cups. The cup warmed in your hand. You faltered, before snatching up a handful of creamer and sugar sachets, shoving them deep into the pockets of your apron. 

You felt as if everyone was watching you as you walked towards Eddie's room, knocking lightly on the door. Wayne's head shot up, his eyes connecting to yours. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy, and guessing from the size of the bags underneath them he hadn't slept a wink since Eddie was admitted.  

"Hi Mr Munson," you sent him a weak smile. "I brought you some coffee." 

"Oh, thank you." He muttered, dragging his hand across his face. 

You placed the cup gently on the bed side table, pulling out all the sachets and dumping them on the sides. "I wasn't sure how you take your coffee so there's some creamer and sugar too." 

He appeared dazed. He looked up at you, something other than sadness spreading across his features. "That's great, I can't thank you enough." 

You smiled, heart breaking at how tired he seemed. "It's the least I can do." 

You bid him farewell, leaving to attend to other patient's. 

That was the first time of many. Like a magnet you were constantly drawn to the room, bringing Wayne a steaming cup of coffee and a smile each morning. The bags under his eyes got darker; he smiled more, and that was something. 

Today was no different. You lightly tapped the door, Wayne gesturing over his shoulder for you to come in. You deposited the coffee on the table, sugar already stirred into the caffeinated drink. You knew by now he hated creamers. 

"You're late, I was getting worried." Wayne joked. You felt lighter - that was the first joke you'd heard him make. 

"One of the patients made me go all the way back to the kitchens to get them a different kind of jello - its wobbly water, how can you tell?" 

A huff of a laugh passed Wayne's lips. 

"I don't mind though," you shrugged, your hand dipping into the front of your arpon. "The nurses told me you've not been eating." 

"I'm not hungry." 

"You need to eat." You sighed, pulling out the object in your apron. "I know it's not much... Please can you eat this? For me?" 

Wayne looked at the pudding cup in your hand, then back to you. "Aren't you going to get into trouble?" 

"Food in the cafeteria is free, you know, since everything has happened. Which you'd know if you went there." You waved the pudding cup in his face, sending him a pointed look. He sighed, reaching out and taking it from you. You passed him a spoon immediately, watching him like a hawk. 

"Wait, now?" 

You nodded. 

"I could report you," he grumbled. 

You smiled brightly. "But you won't - you like me too much." 

"Yeah, yeah," he brushed it off, ripping open the lid of the pudding cup. He dunked the spoon in, taking a big mouthful. He raised a brow at you. "Better now?" 

"Much." You glanced at the watch on your wrist. "I've got to go now - but you better eat that whole thing, or I'll tattle on you for bringing in visitors after hours."

He knew it was an empty threat. All of the nurses and staff on the ward knew he helped sneak in Eddie's friends, turning a blind eye when a handful of kids would scurry past. Sometimes the cleaners helped too. The whole ward was in on it - it was the worst kept secret there.  

"Yes ma'am." Wayne nodded, dipping in the spoon again. You tried to hide your smile, grateful he was finally eating. 

"I'll be back at the same time tomorrow." 

Just like you promised, you returned like clockwork with a coffee in your hand. Except this time a towel was slung across your shoulder and determination in your stride. 

"Oh, hey Y/N, busy morning?" He accepted the coffee, slurping loudly as he considered your tired frame. 

"Not really," you shrugged. "Long week." 

"You've been here every morning since I've been here, what about school?" 

You dragged a spare chair into the room, sitting across from him. You could always spare five minutes to talk, even if it meant staying later on your shift to compensate. "I normally only do Saturday mornings but given the whole situation, I thought I was needed here. Besides, the school is shut at the moment. It's the refuge centre." 

"That's very kind of you." 

Your mouth opened and closed like a fish. You never thought too much about donating your time to the hospital, it was second nature at this point. You finally managed to muster some words. "Thank you sir." 

"Do you know my boy? You're at Hawkins High, right?" 

"Yeah I am." You leaned back in the chair, fiddling with your hands. "I know him, he's in my maths class. He lets me draw on his arm if I get stressed." 

"Those are your drawings?" 

You dipped your head, embarrassment clouding you. "How do you know?" 

"He's always showing them off, telling me how the coolest kid in school is using his arm as a canvas. I'd have to beg him to shower because he just didn't want to wash them away." 

"Really?" 

"Yeah, boy did he half stink at times. At least until he figured out he could just take pictures of them, then it didn't matter too much if they faded." 

You huffed a laugh, smiling distantly. "I never knew that." 

You looked at Eddie's still form in the bed. The colour was starting to return to his cheeks, and if it wasn't for the bandages creeping out beneath the covers you would have thought he was sleeping. "You know what Eddie would say now?" 

Wayne raised a brow, waiting for you to continue.

"He'd say you need to look after yourself, just like how you've looked after him all these years. Go home, sleep in your bed, shower and eat a hot meal." 

"My home was torn apart in the quake."

You sighed, slumping back in your chair. As if the earthquake hadn’t hurt him enough, by attacking Eddie and making him sick with worry, he now didn’t have a home either. You wanted to curse whatever higher power had inflicted this level of pain on his family.

“We’ve got some showers here, and the cafeteria. I know it’s not a lot, but it’s something.” 

Wayne immediately shook his head no, dead against the idea. “No, I’m not leaving him.” 

Instinctively, you sat up, reaching for Wayne’s hand. You held it softly, forcing his gaze to fall on you. “We need to make sure you’re here and you’re healthy for when he wakes up.” 

Wayne opened his mouth to protest, cut off by your voice. “You need a shower and some hot food. I’ll stay here, and if anything changes I’ll find you, okay?” 

Wayne stayed silent for a moment. He looked between you, Eddie and the heart monitor. Eddie hadn’t coded for a few days, and the doctors had said he appeared to be doing well. They just needed him to wake up. 

“What - what if he wakes up and I’m not here?” 

You tightened your grip on his hand. “He won’t be alone. I’ll be here. And if he wakes up, I’ll run and find you as fast as I can.”

He looked so conflicted, his gaze settling on Eddie. He sighed deeply, retracting his hand from yours and standing upright. He moved towards the bed, gently reaching out and squeezing Eddie’s fingers. “I’ll be back soon - you be good for Y/N.” 

He let go quickly, spinning on his heel. You reached for the towel on your shoulder, passing it to him. You led him out of the room, pointing out one of the nurses who could help direct him to the showers. He looked down at the towel in his hand, his lips curling at the edges. 

“You planned this all along?” 

You shrugged, a small smile on your face. “Just doing my job sir.” 

He nodded, walking towards the nurse. His steps faltered as he left the room, turning towards you. “He’ll be okay, right?” 

A lump grew in your throat. Seeing Wayne’s eyes keep dancing to the figure laying in the bed and how he was twisting the towel in his hands, you knew he was nervous. You were fairly certain it was the first time he’d left the room for more than five minutes. 

“He’s in good hands.” You managed to choke out, watching from the doorway as he seemed satisfied with the answer, following the nurse down the corridors. 

You turned back towards the room, walking towards the chair and falling back into it. This was the longest you’d spent here, and god was it awfully quiet. You twiddled with your thumbs, listening to Eddie’s steady breathing and beep of the heart monitor. The quiet felt suffocating, and soon you found words spilling out of your mouth without realising. 

“So I’m the coolest kid in school, huh?” You laughed, looking at his still figure. “I always thought that title was reserved for you. You don’t care what other people think, you are undeniably you. You own that shit.”

You paused, as if waiting for a response. One never came. 

“I’ve always wanted to be your friend, and not just someone who doodles on you. Maybe once you’re better we can hang out? I bet you’re dying to get out of here.” You winced, realising your poor choice of words. “Sorry, that was insensitive.” 

The silence greeted you once more. 

“You know, there’s this great book store just out of town. They have some tables at the back and you can play board games, they even have D&D. I reckon you’d like it there. Maybe you and your friends can go? I know since you’ve been in here they haven’t played.” You subconsciously moved your chair closer, so you were much closer to Eddie. “Your friends… they really miss you. They all really miss you. Dustin in particular.” 

You waited a beat, wondering if the mention of their names might awake him from his coma. He didn’t move an inch. You sighed. 

“They visit you all the time, which you probably already know.” You breathed a laugh, straightening out your uniform apron. “They bring food for the nurses though. Dustin’s mom makes the best brownies I’ve ever had. I could marry the woman.” 

You looked at Eddie, taking in the bandages and bruises lingering on his skin. You couldn’t help but wonder what happened to him to injure him so badly, unable to wrap your brain around the reasoning his friends stuttered out when he was brought out in the ER. They blamed stray animals; something told you that wasn’t entirely accurate. 

“I know you don’t know me that well, but you need to wake up soon. Everyone is so worried about you.” 

For a brief second, you swore you saw him move. But it was a trick of the mind, as he remained as perfectly still as he had since he was admitted. You tried not to be disappointed, falling into silence as you waited for Wayne to return. Minutes dragged by until you heard fast footsteps thudding down the corridor, Wayne’s slightly dishevelled figure appearing in the doorframe.

“Is he okay?” He asked breathlessly, surging forwards to be closer to Eddie’s bedside. A whiff of the hospital shampoo followed in his wake, clogging your nose with a smell similar to baby powder. You immediately left the chair, watching him flop into his gracelessly. 

“Yeah, watched him like a hawk.” You smiled. “Did you get something to eat?” 

“Not sure what all the fuss was about, it was hot mush.” 

You shrugged your shoulders. “But you ate something other than pudding cups.” 

“Eating is overrated.” He looked up at you, a small curl to his lips. “Thank you. For looking after me and my boy.”

“It’s my pleasure.” 

After that the two of you maintained a routine. Wayne would go shower, eat, try to find somewhere to stay while you remained at Eddie’s side, ears always perked for the consistent beeping of the heart monitor. It quickly felt as if you were visiting an old friend. Each day you brought something different to occupy yourself - a book (which you read aloud to Eddie), some knitting (you didn’t talk much these times, just allowing your string of curses to fill the silence as the yarn got tangled), and sometimes you wouldn’t bring anything at all. Sometimes you would merely sit by his bedside, talking into the void and hoping you would hear something back. You never did. 

On one mundane Tuesday morning, you strolled into the room, Wayne’s coffee in hand. You were oblivious to the unusual levels of noise leaving the room, simply walking over the threshold to complete your daily ritual. 

You froze. 

Wayne sat close to the bed, clutching Eddie’s hand as he chatted endlessly. This didn’t take you by surprise, having found Wayne engaging in full conversations with Eddie’s comatose body on many occasions. What did take you by surprise was how he was talking to Eddie - a very much awake Eddie. 

The coffee cup slipped out of your grip. The hot liquid sloshed onto the floor, burning your legs yet you couldn’t register the fleeting pain, gaze transfixed on the boy you had believed would never wake up. 

Both pairs of eyes spun towards you. Wayne smiled widely, frowning as he took in the coffee dripping off of your calves. 

“Are you alright, Y/N?”

Wordlessly you nodded, gulping nervously. “I’ll uh, I’ll go grab a mop.” 

Without uttering another word you turned on your heel, marching down the ward corridor. Casting a quick glance over your shoulder, you saw Wayne hadn’t followed you out. You collapsed against the closest wall, body slumping. 

He was alive, he was awake. Suddenly all of the conversations you believed to be one sided played on repeat in your brain. Oh god, you’d told him you wished you two would be friends. A wave of embarrassment washed over you. You prayed he couldn't recall any of it, just so you could save your dignity. 

But you couldn’t avoid him forever. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you pulled yourself upright. You marched towards the supply closet, filling a bucket with some water and snatched up the mop. As you were walking back towards the room, you could overhear snippets of conversation drifting out into the hallway. 

“This entire time?” 

Wayne’s laughter filtered into the corridor. “There wasn’t a day that would go by without them coming in here. I’ve got all the time in the world for them - they helped pull me back in during my darkest hour.” 

“Uncle Wayne…” You could hear the sadness seeping into Eddie’s voice. You didn’t want to interrupt their moment, waiting for a lull in conversation so you could re-enter. After a few minutes you grabbed your chance, walking in with the mop in hand, pretending to not have heard a word. 

“I see someone finally decided to wake up.” You teased, dunking the mop into the bucket, letting the mop soak in the soapy water. 

“Disappointed I can talk back now?” 

You occupied yourself with cleaning up the spilled coffee, hoping he didn’t catch the embarrassment clouding your features. “Guess I’ll just have to find another comatose boy to vent to.” 

Eddie laughed, a noise you never believed you would hear again. It was nice, you took a moment to relish in the sound. “Nice to know I’m so easily replaceable.” 

You matched his mood, a huff of a laugh passing your lips. You finished mopping, tidying away the fallen cup and looked at Wayne, who seemed the most alive you’d ever seen him. A smile curved onto your lips. They didn’t need you anymore. 

“Do you want another coffee Wayne?” He shook his head no. You picked up the bucket, sending the pair of them a bright grin. “I’ll leave you two to it - I reckon you’ve got quite a bit of catching up to do.” 

You retreated from the room, thankful that Eddie was finally awake and his uncle had him back. Deep down, sadness took root. No longer would you sit by Eddie’s bedside reading, knitting or talking. It felt like you had lost a friend. Shame quickly took its place, how could you think so selfishly when Eddie now had his life back? 

You brushed your feelings away, pushing down the pain whilst you attended to the rest of your duties for the day. 

~

Each day that passed, your days were getting less busy. More patients were returning home, the aftermath of the earthquake slowly but surely ebbing away. Beds were left empty in the hospital and eventually, they no longer needed you everyday. You found yourself lost on what to do, having buckets of time and no way to spend it. You were accustomed to spending hours walking the sterile halls, to spreading happiness to patients and trying to brighten their day. It was good work, work you took pride in, and now you had returned back to your usual Saturday mornings you found yourself craving to be back there. 

Your muscles acted with a mind of their own. You found yourself at the hospital, walking the familiar route to his room. You patted down imaginary dust from your jeans, suddenly self conscious. This would be the first time you had seen him outside of your working hours. 

You greeted a few nurses along the route, spending a few minutes chatting to your favourite cleaner. As much as you enjoyed the interactions, you were itching to already be down the corridor and in the room where you belonged. 

When you arrived at his door, your feet no longer cooperated. You wanted to walk in, self doubts suddenly plaguing you. To him, you were a volunteer, someone who was there to complete a duty. He could never comprehend the friendship you had woven with him over your visits. Maybe he would find this weird, you seeing him during allocated visiting times. Maybe he would kick you out. Maybe he would report you to the nurses. Maybe he had forgotten who you were, you hadn’t seen him since last Saturday. 

“Who’s there?” He called out, breaking you from your spiral. “I promise I won't bite.” 

You gathered all of your courage and flung the door open. His eyes widened slightly in surprise, a wide grin quickly overtaking his features. “Y/N!” 

You let out a breath you hadn’t realised you had been holding. He remembered your name, he recognised you outside of your candy striper uniform. 

“I haven’t seen you in forever - I thought you’d forgotten about me!” Eddie pouted, gesturing for you to come in. You obeyed, stepping into the room and falling into your favourite seat. “I didn’t realise you owned anything other than a candy striper uniform.”

You laughed heartily, relaxing back into the chair. A bout of silence enveloped the pair of you, and you thought back to the time where you sat here by his side, listening attentively to the monitors. That felt like a lifetime ago. 

Eddie broke the silence, playing with his fingers. “Have you been to the bookstore?” 

Your brows furrowed. “Bookstore?” 

“You know, the one with the D&D tables?” 

Your head fell into your hands. You prayed your hands could hide you from him, you could disappear and he would forget all of this ever happened. You mustered a squeak, unable to face the truth but thirsty to know the answers. “How much did you hear?” 

“All of it, I think.” His hands reached out, gently pulling at yours. Slowly you peeked up at him, your shoulders sagging at the sight of his shy smile. “You know, when I heard the coolest kid in Hawkins wanted to be my friend, I knew I had to wake up.” 

“Oh shut up,” you giggled, averting your gaze from him. “I’m nowhere near the coolest kid.”

“I heard what Wayne told you, you know, about the drawings? God, I wanted so hard to wake up right there and then to shut him up.” He shook his head, traces of a smile on his lips. “I always looked forward to that class, pretty sure that’s the only class I never skipped.” 

“I… I didn’t know.” You couldn’t wrap your head around Eddie’s words, scrambling for an explanation. “Why?” 

“Because it was the only time I could spend with my friend.” 

You couldn’t hide your smile, shaking your head. “Why didn’t we ever hang outside of class?” 

“I don’t know, I thought you wouldn’t want to be seen with the town’s freak.” 

“I don’t care about any of that.” You laughed again, shaking your head. “Why are we both so awkward?” 

Eddie joined your laughter, wincing as he jostled his side. 

“You know, I think I saw a pen around here.” Eddie wiggled his eyebrows. “What do you say we reminisce about the good ol’ days?” 

You gleefully obliged, scavenging the nurses office for a pen. You were by Eddie’s side in an instant, assuming the position and uncapping the pen. 

That’s how you spent the rest of your night, pen ink sprawling along Eddie’s arm as you talked way past visiting hours, forging a friendship that would last a lifetime.

stranger things masterlist

[glimmerlofsea]

Billy Hargrove x Reader

MASTERLIST

CLUMSY

Warning : Mentions of alcoholism, drunk!reader, slut shaming, mature!billy I guess?

WC; 1,5k+

#TALKISSA; okay.. soo talkissa is like a summary of this story. And this story is about you getting drunk because a lot of guys breaking your heart (most of the times), then you go to a bar, make a mess, the manager kicks you out of the bar, and he pity you.

It always ends like this. You've dated a lot of guy this year, but none of the guys really love you. You met this guy, Harley, his name, he was the most precious thing you ever had, until... He said he wanted to end all of your relationships by whatever name they were.

That certainly affects your little heart which is often occupied by mad men who go and come back as they please, but Harley? At first you sympathized, you understood that maybe it was because of how boring you were that he decided to end your relationship. But when a girl approaches him, no lie, her style looks like a striper, and they share a hot kiss in front of you, you immediately grab Harley and slap him hard.

What made you even more sick was that day was supposed to be the day you celebrated your first mensive, you didn't hesitate to cursing him with all the insults that came out of your mouth, but Harley wasn't as gentle as you knew him, he threw several harsh words at you, like "She's a better slut than you, I'm sick of the excuse 'I'm not ready' when I'm so ready to touch you. Maybe you want to learn to be a slut with my new girlfriend, huh, Y/N?"

For all eternity you will really sew his mouth so you can't hear his voice anymore, the changes shown by Harley make you sad and angry, you decide to free your mind,

It was the winter of 1990, you forgot to bring your coat when you wanted to go to Harley, so you were forced to walk to a bar without a coat or warm clothes.

Things are going smoothly, you are drunk as usual, you are a strong and reliable drunkard but this time you feel very dizzy,

"Huh?" You groaned holding your forehead, "Sir, this is not my order," you said to the bartender but he was busy dealing with other customers, you held your glass and your stomach started to hurt.

"Wine and beer." You're rambling.

Oh, you tried that combination once and it didn't end well. Whatever the origin of wine and beer. Your eyes are shadowy, as if someone else just took over your body.

Here you are, constantly shouting "More!" To the bartender, some of the customers were already uncomfortable with your overly enthusiastic attitude, but you responded to their cynical looks by saying, "What's up with me?! I need some fun in my lifeeeeee! Let's party, my peopleee!"

But this actually makes it worse, they make fun of you even more, but in your drunken state with flushed cheeks you can't properly digest their gazes or words.

Suddenly you catch a band that is going to perform at the bar, you immediately get up from your chair, carrying your small bag and walking in a daze, who knows where.

You chuckled to yourself silly and went up to the stage, the light was directed at you, at first you covered your face with your hands, but seeing the people shout made you lower your hands and start smiling. Even though the shout was to make you leave the stage.

You looked at the band behind you, "Don't go breaking my heart by Elton John—"

A hand reaches out for you, you see the bar guards with their sunglasses and their tight black suits, “Ma’am, you can’t—” You hit them with your bag, a little afraid of them directly touching you, “Don’t touch meee!!! You just like him!!"

You threw your bag at the guard, "Pervert!" With incomplete awareness, you whine, "I just want to be loved. Can't you understandddd?"

The bodyguard frowned, almost seeing all the madness in you, while the audience started recording and burst into laughter at your drunken form, you looked at them and waved your hand,

You looked at the band again, "Don't go breaking my heart by Elton John, please."

Not yet approved, you have snatched a man's microphone and started singing the lyrics from the song Don't go Breaking my heart by Elton John,

"Right from the stArt, I gaVe you My hEaRt! Oh-oh I Give you my heaRtt!!" In a slurred and off key tone you sing while whining, remembering Harley, John, Logan, Carlos who wasted your love just for their lust.

You sat on the floor of the stage and started crying, this time really crying, tears came out of your eyes, "I'm an adult, I should get marrieeeddd!! God, pleaseee give me a sign of my future husband."

As soon as someone pulled you to your feet, you immediately stood up because of how strong his hands were to pull you up from the floor. There you saw a man with a neat mullet hairstyle and neatly dressed in a navy blue jacket.

This is it. This is the sign! He's your future husband.

You screamed hysterically and hugged him, "My future husband! God, thank you for letting my wish has come true!"

The man pushed you gently, his face looked angry and you didn't know why he was so angry, he said something to his bodyguard but you couldn't hear clearly.

"... Yes, Boss." That's all the guard said, then he left you guys.

Boss. He must be the manager of this bar! The manager takes you away from the crowd—or rather kicks you out of the bar.

You kept whining for him to let you go but instead he didn't listen to your words, until you were outside his bar using the back door,

"My baaggg!!!" You whine. Again.

He gave you your bag and put it over your head,

You squinted your eyes to see the figure more clearly, but to no avail, all you felt was dizziness and a strange feeling in your stomach.

"Listen, ma'am. We understand that your problem is important to you, but it's only important to you, not to my customers. With a heavy heart—"

You held your stomach and turned yourself in another direction, your head hit the trash can there, making you immediately feel all the contents of the combination of alcohol in your stomach.

What you don't know is that honestly Manager Hargrove was confused about what to do, of course he had seen this happen, but only in his room when he was fucking a girl from a party. He decided to stroke your back with one hand and use the other hand to pull your hair so it wouldn't get stained with vomit.

He's certainly be sick over, but he also annoys why he should care about you.

You landed yourself on the surface, in the snow that was scattered there, you pulled your snot from your nose which was already very red, then you whined, "Is all I want too much to ask??" You looked at the Manager,

He sighed, "I'm giving you time to-" You immediately pulled him to sit next to you.

"All I want is for someone to love me as much as I love them. But that never happens. I hate men but I hate myself who seems to feel like I need their attention and love. When I give them a chance they start to just be clear want my body." You talk as if nothing can stop you.

You looked at him who was already looking at you, "Can you understand me?"

Before he could answer you started acting up, you smiled maniacally and started pinching his two cheeks, "You're soooo adorable, my future husband!"

"You know? A few minutes before you found me I asked for a sign about my future husband! And God immediately gave it to me!" You exclaimed in joy while he just wrinkled his nose in pain. As far as he wants to let go of your pinch but this time he will let a girl vent to him.

You released your pinch and placed a short kiss on his cheek, you showed your sweet smile, "I will love you. And I hope you will love me too."

With that, your head fell on his shoulder, like his shoulders had their own attraction for you to perch on, and you already felt comfortable, even in a state that wasn't fully conscious.

On the other hand, the manager, Billy Hargrove still silent about your attitude, he didn't know what he felt but it was like an electric shock struck him. She will love me? What he thought was one of those moments that Billy never saw coming.

There are no "I love you" words used by anyone in his life properly, even his mother who ultimately left him, but with you, the girl he just met? He's been swept away.

Author Note : I WILL DEFINITELY MAKE A SECOND PART OF THIS!!! Idk why, but why am I blushing reading my own story?! akansjsjjswkwk, and I hope youre blushing too, ayy??? ... ♡ in a second part, maybe there is Max!!! I'M EXCITED, ARE YOU???

[unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin]

“Oh darling, they would be begging to be in your place right now” stripper!Au and yandere authority Seth Rollins please? Hope that’s not too much.

Striper!au yandere!Authority Seth Rollins

Warnings: Yandere!seth Rollins, stripper!reader, obsession, abuse(physical and phycological)

Taglist: @fiskers7136 @peachmango-kombucha @kcloveswrestling @bellalutionn @xkennyxomegax @tummyyellin @legit9thlunaticwarrior @auburnwrites @melissahausen @thesusbunny @writtingrose

Seth has the biggest ego during the time, and the rest of the Authority basically encourages it

When he goes to a high class strip club with Hunter he gets a dance from you

He doesn’t know what it is about you, but he become enamored with you

He starts going multiple times a week just to see you, getting multiple hours of personal dances with you

He of course paid well, but he also slipped the owner some money to set stricter rules

You wouldn’t dance for others, especially private dances

Instead, you would do other jobs when he wasn’t there to see you

Eventually you get fed up by the situation

Your coworkers didn’t understand your frustration. You got twice as much as most of them while doing the least amount of work

But everything was being controlled by Seth. You felt completely suffocated

The last straw was when a gift showed up at your home, meaning he is your address

“You’re fucking insane!”

You were yelling at the man. He hadn’t said anything, just clenching his jaw tightly before scoffing at you

“Really darling? You’re throwing a tantrum over a gift?”

“How did you even get my address? No, don’t even tell me. I don’t want to ever see you again!”

You tried to push by him, but he gripped your arm lightly and pulled you back to stand in front of him

“Oh darling, they would be begging to be in your place right now and all you can do is complain.”

“Let go.” You tried to pull your arm away, but his grip didn’t budge

“I’ll give you the choice now. You can either come willingly, or I can fucking knock you out.”

His eyes were staring straight into yours but you said nothing, hoping to call him bluff

After a few seconds his free hand flew up to slap you across the face

“Ok!” You yelled, refusing to move your head for where it had been pushed from the slap. “Ok. I’ll go.”

You didn’t see the smile that grew from your words

“Good. I was getting tired of having to come here to see you every week.”

[gremlingottoosilly]

And they said I couldn't be a psychologist [COD x fem! Reader]

Tired of living with a family that genuinely thinks that being a psychologist is a wild ride to being poor and lonely? Got too many student loans to ever think that you will be able to repay them? Just join the army! Good company, great benefits and lots and lots of travel.

AO3

Characters featured in this chapter: Captain John Price This fanfic will contain incorrect use of psychology, my dead dreams of becoming a therapist instead of a journalist, basically a harem "The only girl on the team" plot and a reader who can't fight to save her life, literally. Each chapter will concentrate on one or few characters at the same time, I hope you will like it!

Google search: average school psychologist salary in my state

Allow Google to search for your location?

Fuck it, the government already know who you are, where you are exactly, and what you will do with this pretty wrecked mental state of mine, if I wouldn’t get an affirmative answer.

School Psychologists made a median salary of $62 000 in 202X.

Google search: average psychologist salary in my state without Master’s degree

National average salary for Bachelors in psychology is: $32,395 per year

Google search: master’s degree psychology how much

Average cost to earn a master’s degree in Clinical Psychology: $62,650

Average cost to earn your doctorate in psychology: $115,500

Google search: how many days can person not eat

Google search: annual striper’s salary

Google search: can I become a stripper if I’m not attractive

Google search: Army enlisting

💬💬💬

In highsight, perhaps, you should have stayed with the stripper option. Sure, it would be a lot more mentally draining, but at least you would make much more money out of the utter humiliation this work would promise to be every day. Military, on the other side of the spectrum, wasn’t really different from being a sex worker – you are still selling your body and mind, still have too much time in a dominantly male field, and will probably experience a lot more patriarchy sausage parties once you get there. The only thing that was different was the employer. 

And tax benefits. 

And health insurance. 

And a special program for those who would like to receive an education after they are done killing people, but don’t want to pay more than 100 000 dollars for a diploma that would look good on exactly one photo on the wall and then would be forgotten by pursuing the career of a sandwich artist. Ah, oh no. Negative thinking again. 

Jesus fucking – oh no, blasphemy, looking not good for your all-american goody-two-shoes portfolio – Christ, you have to get herself together – and at least somewhat presentable, even this would mean very little, considering the fact that for a woman in such masculine field, any signs of traditionally feminine things would be considered a bone thrown to a pack of wolves, but…no, no, no. You can’t have this new age psychology shit while she is on a mission…by being a new age psychologist, enlisted to the army just because you don't want to be a stripper, and too slow to become a good drug dealer. 

Cynthia Cockburn once wrote an essay about women's role in maintaining patriarchy by joining the army. How a lot of females are helping salvage the old system, that has to be put down for good for a long time already – and how this system continuously throws them out, without even acknowledging their input. 

You are wondering, if by applying your makeup right now, you are doing pretty much the same. Ah yes, a woman in a field dominated mostly by psychotic men! Let me just put on my brightest red lipstick, a short that will barely cover anything important and, of course, a pair of heels that would set anyone in the hearing range to a Vietnam flashback even if they never been in Vietnam to begin with. Oh no…is that a risky joke? PTSD is a serious matter, you know. You shouldn’t joke about flying helicopters and war flashbacks – not when the training for the military psychologist courses were so hard, that even you, with your pretty much good mental health, would have to check herself double time for any trauma that the instructor would leave with you. 

Two weeks of torture for an opportunity to apply the blandest eyeshadow known to mankind, the pinkiest lipstick that barely holds any pigments – it’s not like you have money to splurge on something better even given the permission – and a mascara as clear as the mountains fresh air. God – oh no, blasphemy again, you really don’t want to get a good grade with all of these God-fearing old-fashioned men, aren’t you? – you really hated just how bland you look. You feel like one of these girls in your college – with tightest buns, cream sweaters and perfectly high-pitched laugh that would make them desirable for even blander college boys. Ah, how much you hated this place. 

The military base, however, is far worse. 

First, there are just too many people here. Second, everyone looks at you like you are some sort of ghost. Judging by your loosely hanging white doctor’s coat, they aren’t too far from the truth, but it still was weird. And finally, third – you are still not sure that your papers have been sent correctly, and this is even the right place. 

Instructor – a terrible, horrible, horrendous woman – told you that there would be plenty of study material for you here. That with these people, writing your master’s or even doctorate would be a “ ‘king breeze, rookie, if they ain’t decide to eat ya first”. The males around you – and some women, of course, because the newest military recruitment made sure to include as many people as possible, providing everyone with the opportunity to kill people as much as they would want – doesn't sound quite as great material for your research. 

And you are not going back to the fucking college. 

She said that some Captain brought you here specifically – and that higher-ups made him do it, as he was dismissing any previous attempts of sending psychological help for any of his units. So this is going to be a classic conflict between a person and the government – and you, a useless specialist – are going to be stuck in the middle, as long as you don't get shot. Perfect, terrific, just a great fate for someone who got out of college after 4 years of destroying her own hopes and dreams in a giant cell of a US education system. 

You haven’t even met the man before, and now you are sitting here, in the middle of nowhere on this gigantic base. Fighting with the fabric of your clothing – a nice buttoned shirt, nothing that could be considered a provocation from your side, and trying to breath as the reality of the situation is slowly thinking it. 

Breathe in 

You stuck here for only god knows how long – until you either will be dismissed, or decide to go away by your own choice. With people you know nothing about, and who probably doesn’t even want you here. 

Breathe out 

This is a perfect opportunity for you to write your Thesis – just pick one of these perfectly twisted specimens, and make his mental state even worse. Or better, if you would feel nice enough for such hard work. 

Breathe in 

Perhaps, it’s not so bad – only a few years of service, and you will be back in your education. The children and their easily molded minds are waiting for you to be their perfect school psychologist. With average salary of “fuck you and your savings too”.

Breathe out 

Health insurance is nice. Would be even better with some dental insurance, but this is reserved only to soldiers. And you are…well, not a soldier, that is for sure. 

Breathe in 

– Greetings. I suggest you are the mental health expert? 

…and, all of your neatly putted breathing schedule is fucked. Stupid army people and their stupid questions with such nice and deep voices that would make you think of deeply fucked up stuff any other day and…

– Oh, um, yes. A psychologist. And you are..? 

– Captain Price. You have to work in my unit, but I figured out that just sending my men to get you would be too much on your first day. 

– Thank you, I…I would rather greet them myself, that is. I kinda have to. 

He frowned. Oh, great. A perfect example of stoic  fatherly type – the guy who is probably thinks of his soldiers as his kids, definitely don’t have a wife – alive one, at least – and slowly cooking himself alive in a pot full of misery, machism and “I don’t buy any of this mentally ill stuff”.

His mustaches are great though. And a hat. 

– Do you really? 

– Well, I don’t want to earn my paycheck for just sitting around. This would be nice though. 

– In that case, higher-ups would put us both in trouble for this. 

– Do you have anything for me to start working with? Like a personal file or…

– I’ll show you around. 

– Oh. Okay. 

He seems harmless enough. As much as one man wearing a full uniform with too many weapons and a tiny hat could be – but you still feel well protected while walking beside him. With this still hanging loose coat of yours – you’ll have to search for something more adjusted for your tiniest fucking height – you can feel everyone’s gazes on you. Jesus, you will have to work with this many people? Let’s just hope that no one here believes in magic powers of therapy, and you would be pretty much free for any of your working hours. 

— But you do have personal files of your soldiers, right? 

— I thought your people like more of a personal approach? 

— Well, it would be really great, but I need some documents to write off my work and…

— Then you are going to write those documents, kid. I don’t want to scare you, but a young miss like you really wouldn’t want to see real portfolios of my men. 

— Sir, with all honor, I am not a…

– We’re here. 

Oh. Saving you the humiliation of being able to recognise patronizing tones and understanding, that you are, in fact, a kid, a young miss, and generally a useless fucking person. Psychologists in a place, where most of the people probably believe, that getting drunk will save them from nightmares? What a joke. 

At least the office is nice. 

Tidy place, neatly furnished room with a table, a sofa – something right out of Freud’s fantasies. A small empty closet for all three of your psychology books. You can already picture whimsical and fun soldiers laying here, trying so bad not to laugh in your face as you were trying to uncover all of their mental trauma without being strangled to death. 

– Thank you, sir…captain? It’s nice. 

– Not much, but everything that we were able to put when they said that we need a mental expert here. 

– I will try my best not to disappoint you, I promise. 

– You can unpack here, someone will show you the bed later. Still don’t know whether to put you with soldiers or medics. 

– Um…I would really prefer a… A nice and roomy bedroom, preferably with no one to snore alongside you, and definitely not with soldiers who can get the wrong ideas about a nice and sweet lady psychologist sleeping right next to them on their base. Of course, you can’t say that. 

–...I need to gather as much material about them as possible, so it would be really neat to sleep closer to the soldiers. 

You are the architect of your own demise. You and your stupid Thesis that you are not even sure, whether you could write it right now or not.

– Oh. 

He scratched his chin in a manner that you have seen too many times. Do all older males with bears share the same mannerism? 

Then he smiled – a ghostly feature on his face, that almost made him look like he actually wanted you here, and not just putting up with higher-ups bullshit because every special task force needs its psychologist just so the soldiers won’t kill each other on one sunny day. 

– Okay. I’ll think about something, doc. 

– I am not…not a doctor, sir. Not yet, at least. 

– Well, it’s either a doc or a kid. What do ya prefer? 

– Doc would be better. Perhaps, I will earn my doctorate after the service. 

– That’s the spirit, kid. 

– But sir- 

Shit. He is gone already. 

You were never a fan of dad jokes. Or dad types. Or anyone, who is questioning what the fuck you are doing here, even though you spend 4 years fighting for this position in the college. Who cares, if you can’t shoot guns? Words are just as deadly! 

Well, judging by the size of the rifle on the Captain's body, maybe, your words would definitely be less threatening than his guns. But this doesn’t change the whole picture! 

Oh, well. You might as well try to get yourself as comfortable as possible – considering all of the possibilities, they might simply forget that you exist, and you would have to sleep on this tiny couch at least for today. What a great opportunity and definitely something that you spent four years waiting in awe of. Perfect, beautiful, something right from her dreams. 

“You can still get out of here, you know. Just go out of this door and we will never ever speak about joining the military ever again. Trust me, babe, I am your conscience.” 

Oh no. You hated talking with your conscience – mostly because it was an annoying prick, and also because, as studies were showing in many of the presentations you would make for your classes, this is a first sign of not just a person being self-aware, but also the step to being proclaimed a mad man. Even if you are, in fact, a very self-aware and mentally healthy person. Mostly. You liked to think of yourself as one, at least. 

“You don’t want to be here. And you shouldn’t – there is plenty of work outside.” 

Yeah, like a sex job. Or secretary. Or a waiter – what a beautiful line of work for someone already in too much debt to her government. And judging by the already dismissive faces of your parents, going home as a stay-at-home daughter is also not going to be an option. So, go far and beyond. 

You just need to find a few people who would be interested in psychotherapy – how hard is that?

[eyesxxyou]

anfhshdhhhtshgjjg IM GLAD YOU LIKE THE IDEAS😭😭 I'm js rambling about him autistically so I'm glad people are enjoying it

but striper aus drive me a little crazy, they're so much fun and you get to put everyone in slutty outfits and crazy makeup, not to mention the knee-high boots and pure strength that strippers need to have? the reader is probably jacked tbh

-🕸

JACKED READER MY BELOVED. FLEXIBLE READER MY BELOVED. READER WHO CAN CAREY HOBIE WITH ONE ARM BUT IS STILL THE BOTTOM MY BELOVED