#it would not make sense for EITHER of these characters to do this. NEITHER of them has even REMOTELY anything that could be used

[musical-chick-13]

.......I have been thinking Too Hard about my childhood experience in The Church™ lately because I am just barely refraining from putting in gratuitous Catholicism References in this fic for the sake of subverting them through the lens of romantic idolatry.

[acourtofquestions]

Did Rowan & Celaena/Aelin/Elentiya just have a mind to mind conversation like it’s no big deal??? HOW DID CELAENA NOT FIND THIS ODD??? I thought Daemati were ACOTAR… SOMETHING IS UP HERE!

[piratefalls]

i love the moment where adalind tells nick she wants to name their baby kelly SO MUCH because he’s got so many negative feelings towards this woman, but this touches him so deeply that he can’t help but stare at her. she wants to name their son after his mother, a woman who faked her death to keep her son safe, and ultimately died trying to keep adalind’s daughter safe, and he’s not sure how to reconcile the woman in front of him who insists on such a wonderful gesture with the woman who’s been wreaking havoc on his life for years.

[sukirichi]

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 | 𝐒. 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮

— in which you and your fuck buddy pretend to date, which totally won’t lead to feelings at all, right?

content / warnings. toxic college settings. explicit smut. MINORS DNI. choking. exhibitionism. fingering. making out. masturbation. voyeurism. toxic characters. reverse cowgirl riding. implied dub-con. friends with benefits. fake dating. unedited.

dedicated to @kyriaan

The sixth beep of your phone that cursed morning had you shuffling around your bag for the device, fishing it out and muting it with exasperation. To no one’s surprise, he was the sole topic again. Oikawa this and Oikawa that — how he’d be such a great boyfriend to you and your friends could also go on dates with his equally charismatic friends; you were tired of hearing the same thing over and over again.

“Funny seeing you here,” a bored voice drawled out, the scraping of a chair against the floor snapping you to your senses. “Never in my whole life did I imagine I’d find you hiding in a library of all places — are you reading Freud? His theories are shit. They’re not even scientifically proven.”

You raised a brow at Suna Rintaro, your not-so friend friend.

You and Rintaro had a strict friends with benefits relationship.

It started with meeting at a party once when you needed a release from the stress of finals, you made out on the crowded dance floor and found yourselves tangled in the sheets with barely any memory of the night before. The rest was history. Soon, you ran into him more often than you’d expected, and it wasn’t long before you added his name into speed dial.

Funnily enough, you weren’t that close to him.

You either knew everything about him or knew little to nothing. Most of the time you spent with Rintaro would be when you two were drunk out of your minds, bodies too occupied with moving against one another that ‘getting to know each other’ had never been a thing.

For some reason, however, Rintaro was someone you could trust with your whole heart. You just wouldn’t date him because you weren’t looking for a relationship, and neither was he.

Both of you loved the arrangement you had now.

“Why do you know so much about Freud? I just randomly picked up this book.”

Rintaro shrugged, “‘Hooked up with a girl in Psychology once; she was pretty hot, but you’re still my favourite,” winking, he chewed on his gum before snatching the book away from you.

A protest nearly fell from your mouth when a mop of wavy, dark hair sauntered inside the library, taking long, confident strides as he chatted with Iwaizumi. Eyes widening, you ducked your head behind Suna, desperately clutching the hoodie clad on his stiff back.

Rintaro glanced downwards at you, “You’re hiding like you murdered somebody’s pet. Should I be worried or should I help you in hiding someone’s body?”

“Literally shut up. Oikawa is right there.”

“Oikawa... Tooru?” following your line of sight, Rintaro’s back slouched at the same time his lips curled into a mischievous smile. You could tell he was stifling his laughter; the vibrations of his back spoke enough of his urge to betray you. “Oh, he’s looking here. At you, I might say — care to explain?”

“I have nothing to explain to you. We’re not even friends.”

“Ouch,” Rintaro clutched at his chest, “That hurt. Weren’t you at my dorm like five nights in a row last week? You didn’t want me to leave the bed either. I thought we had something special!”

“Suna Rintaro, I am not fucking around with you. Shut up. I swear if Oikawa walks here, I’m never talking to you again.”

As if to prove a point, you plopped until your upper body squished against his back and the chair, cheeks puffing out in frustration as Rintaro sighed. “Okay, you don’t have to explain anything to me, but come on. You’re using me as a human shield and I have zero context on what’s going on,” he tapped your thigh, head slightly tilted to the side with a wary eye out for Oikawa. “Listen, if he’s bothering you, I could deal with it. He looks like the type of guy who doesn’t know what ‘no’ means so if that’s the case, stop hiding. I can help you with it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Your grip on his hoodie listened. Peering up from the bottom of your lashes, you nervously licked your lips. “Wait... you mean that? You’ll really help me?”

“Yeah! You send me nudes that motivate me to ace my exams so this is the least I could do.”

“You just have to make everything sexual, don’t you?” you rolled your eyes and ignored Rintaro’s shameless smile. Scanning the room, you glared at Oikawa’s direction before sitting up and gluing yourself to Rintaro’s hip, whose brow raised but said nothing otherwise. “Okay, so the thing is... my friends may or may not have set me up with Oikawa. They kind of gave him false hope I’m really into him — which I never will be because he has a shitty personality — but he’s not having any of it. He insisted I should go with him on just one date, and if I still don’t change my mind about him, then he won’t push further. Otherwise, he really doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s everywhere that I ended up blurting out I was already dating someone.”

Rintaro rested his chin on his palm. “That’s a lot of information to take in,” he mused, “So... you need help in finding a fake boyfriend, is that it?”

“About that,” with guilt written all over your face, you scratched the back of your neck and chuckled, making sure to avoid eye contact the entire time. “You were the first one to come to mind so I told him I was dating the middle blocker from his team. The uhm, guy who stays up until three am fighting in Twitter threads.”

Rintaro’s jaw dropped. “No way,” he clicked his tongue, hands coming up to ball beside your cheeks as he fought the desire to squeeze your cheeks. Meanwhile, you blinked at him innocently, lower lip jutted out in hopes you’d appease him — which more or less worked as he slumped in his seat. “I can’t believe you dragged me into this.”

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“You did and you chose to date me!” Rintaro hissed under his breath, “Jeez, if you wanted us to be official, you could’ve said so. I would’ve thought about it,” exhaling through his nose, Rintaro pushed his hair back, his head too much of a mess to notice you getting flustered. “Fine. I’ll be your fake boyfriend, but don’t you dare fall in love with me. Our condition when we started sleeping together was that we’re limited to casual relationships only. I like our arrangement already, and you mean a lot to me as a friend so I don’t want to lose you, alright? Whatever we’re doing, it’s all going to be an act.”

“Deal,” you shook his hand, face lighting up at how it didn’t take much to convince him. “Now go to the party with me tonight. We’ll show Oikawa why he can’t have me.”

The sight of bodies grinding onto another and music blaring through the speakers weren’t new to you and Rintaro. You’d both seen the same scene a thousand times before, having been part of that crowd at one point. Yet, tonight felt different from rest. The music felt muted as you walked through the door with Rintaro’s hand down on your waist, the stench of alcohol and sex overpowered by the musky perfume your fake boyfriend wore.

You couldn’t think clear around him.

You tried to blame it on the jitters that set your nerves on fire, anxiety pooling in your stomach at the thought Oikawa made it clear he wanted to see you tonight.

Of course, you weren’t stupid. Knowing the guy infamous for his reputation for sleeping around and changing partners like they were his clothes, he wouldn’t give up once he had his eyes set on someone. It just so happened that unfortunate person had to be you.

“Relax,” Rintaro breathed into your ear, pulling you closer by the hip when you weaved through the people nearly fucking on the floor. The sudden gesture had you jolting for a split second. Blinking, Rintaro’s reassuring smile greeted you with a tinge of amusement, his gaze tracing down your nails forming crescent moons on his arm. “Do you really have to cling to me all night?”

“We’re supposed to be a couple madly in love, remember?” you reminded with a bounce of your heel, surveying the throng of people milling in and out of the frat house in search of Oikawa.  “You should kiss me too as soon as we see him. Then he’ll stop bothering me and we can be over with this fiasco.”

“Asking just in case, but how should I kiss you? Like a peck?”

“Kiss me like you want the whole world to know I’m yours,” you said nonchalantly, not thinking too much of it since this was supposed to be an act. Until a horde of loud males started cheering as soon as they entered the room, the crowd welcoming Oikawa and his friends warmly when Rintaro suddenly grabbed you by the wrist, twisting you to face him. The last thing you saw before Rintaro tilted his head to the side to press his lips to yours was the look of utter horror on Oikawa’s face.

Although, honestly, who cared? Rintaro tasted like beer and strawberries, his musky scent clouding your senses that your eyes closed in response.

Knees weakening, you grabbed onto Rintaro’s shoulders to steady yourself, gasping into his greedy lips when you felt him squeeze your hip possessively. You groaned into the kiss, your hands running up to play with the ends of his hair as Rintaro’s back hit the wall, his bent leg trapped between your thighs. He quickly took the chance and nudged his knee on your clothed pussy. Your skirt grazed against your sensitive core that you attempted to pull away to breathe, but Rintaro wasn’t having any of it.

Smirking beneath you, Rintaro hooked a finger into the chains dangling from your skirt and pulled you flush against him. You had no time to react before he was pushing a tongue past your lips. Warm, wet muscles danced against each other as Rintaro memorized the taste of you the same way you did for him — not a single care about air anymore when he made those low, deep whimpers setting fire to your loins.

But just as soon as you leaned in for more, his hair tugged backward to deepen the kiss, Rintaro pulled away. “That’s how I’d kiss you if I were your boyfriend,” he declared, pads of his thumb swiping against his moist lip swollen from the little nips you gave him — the look of pleasure and satisfaction displayed all over his handsome face that told you how much he enjoyed your needy whines.

You gaped at him, your skin burning from being edged.

Rintaro flicked you on the forehead. “Don’t look at me like that. You asked me to kiss like I wanted to let the world know your mine, and he was looking. Besides, we need to show someone who you belong to, right?” pushing his weight off the wall, Rintaro lightly bit your earlobe as you breathed hard, his sharp, cold gaze focused on a flushed red Oikawa standing across the room. “I have a better idea if you’re up for it.”

Arms crossed against your chest, you wrapped your arms around his waist in faux affection, when in reality you only needed to hear what he said through the loud music. “What do you have in mind?” The smirk on Rintaro’s face was as loud as a warning siren.

“Turn around.”

Even if you didn’t want to, Rintaro wasn’t asking. He spun you around by the shoulders, your back flushed against his chest when you felt his knee nudge between your legs once more. His fingers calloused from playing volleyball snaked past your thigh and dangerously close to your heated pussy. “This is what I had in mind,” he whispered, his voice sending tingles straight down your spine. “Let’s burn that pretty face of yours into his head. Show him what he can’t have.”

Your dignity told you to say no. To be fingered in public like this was less than ideal, even more so when your lace panties dangerously flashed into view. Yet, you found yourself arching your back to retaliate.

Ass nudging against Rintaro’s hardening cock, you smirked upon hearing his low groans. One palm cupped your ass as a warning before he playfully snapped your underwear against your thigh, a wince painting your half fucked out features from the sting. Glancing at him from the side, you sneered, about to protest when he wiggled his free hand and cupped your pussy.

Your mouth hung open.

Oikawa’s drink fell from his hands. No longer was he paying any attention to his friends, rather on the way you keened and your tongue threatening to loll out your lips the moment Rintaro’s thumb flicked your clit.

“You’re such a naughty slut. Who knew you were into this?”

“He’s watching, Rintaro,” you whimpered, gripping at his wrist like he wasn’t knuckle deep in your pants already. “Someone could see and think we’re—”

“That’s the point,” lowering his mouth onto your neck, you gasped at his teeth sinking down on the skin. Behind you, you could hear the hand on your ass disappear at the sounds of a belt unbuckling, fuelling your imagination to both the best and worst scenarios. Rintaro wasn’t far behind in his surprise as were you; you never expected you’d enjoy giving someone a show either, much less cum on the spot the second Rintaro’s cock slipped inside you. “Aw, fuck, did you just come undone for me? I haven’t even done anything yet.”

You shook your head, palms slippery with sweat as you held onto his slick hands squeezing your waist. The music was no longer audible from the pounding of your heart. Hell, you could barely feel your legs when Rintaro mumbled something incoherent around you before he guided your connected bodies onto a nearby couch.

Plopping down with your weight on top of him, you held onto his knees for dear life. Rintaro settled on the leather couch occupied by a stoned student laughing by himself, the latter’s chuckles halting when he was greeted by the sight of your hazy eyes and pants falling from your mouth. Meanwhile, Rintaro rested his arms on the back of his head. He didn’t have to lift a finger, much less give a command for you to know he wanted you to ride him right here — if you looked straight across, Oikawa would be right before you a few feet away, his frown deeply engraved into his face.

“Rin, I...”

He sat up in a flash at the hesitance in your voice, warm hands wrapping around your waist protectively. It took you a second to realize he hid his nestled cock from everyone’s prying eyes in case you weren’t comfortable, but the gesture did nothing but make you clench around him harder — both from the anxiety and anticipation.

You’d never admit it out loud, but you wanted people to watch. You wanted him to see Rintaro had total control over your body, no matter how humiliating the situation might be.

“Do you want us to stop? Should we go somewhere else?”

You didn’t answer with words. Instead, you bent your legs to rest beside his thighs, fingers looping around the ones hooked under your breast to steady yourself before you lifted your hips, then slammed back down. Again and again, until sweat dripped from your head to your jaw, you kept eye contact with a red-faced Oikawa. All the while as you bounced on Rintaro’s dick and threw your head back, laughing with your whole chest at the lights spinning from the ceiling since it reminded you of the seventh heaven you were in.

Rintaro let you go at your own pace, his grunts and garbled utterances of your name blending with the party wilding from the background. You could feel him twitching inside of you. His cock bumped and grazed your walls until the tip kissed a particular sensitive spot that had you losing your balance for a moment, nails digging into his ripped jeans to catch your breath.

“Goddamn,” Rintaro cursed, stealing away your ability to breathe with his hand snaking into your neck. “You dirty fucking slut, getting off to acting like a whore in front of the whole campus, huh? Go on. Show them how you’re such a whore for my cock.”

You couldn’t swallow down your words.

Rintaro’s grip on your neck had you on a literal chokehold, strong enough to deprive you of air and tighten around him, but not to a point you felt lightheaded. If anything, the power he displayed only fuelled you to ride him harder. Drawing figure eights with your hip, you could feel drool smearing your lipstick as the red stains smudged against Rintaro’s palm, the sound of slick and skin slapping against skin like music to your ears.

Only Rintaro could ever make you feel this way.

From the night you’d met him, each time you fucked would be the best experience of your life. Not once had he failed in bringing you over the edge or experimenting with the most absurd positions you’d never thought of before, and now you were returning the favour.

You rode his cock like it was your last mission. ‘Death by cock’ didn’t sound like such an unfavourable thing either, not when it meant losing yourself in his thick girth spreading you wide and the lewd sight of your cum sticking to his thighs. His jeans were a mess, but Rintaro never complained. He didn’t care then, and he wouldn’t care now. Seeing you dirty his clothes, your sweat dampening his shirt and your own cum coating his cock like a rewarding trophy of what felt like the best night of his life — Rintaro didn’t give a single fuck about the mess.

“F-Fuck, Rin, I’m coming!”

Rintaro held your waist, taking over with complete control as he slammed your hips up and down his twitching cock, curses falling back and forth from his mouth. “Cum on me,” he ordered. Resting his chin on your shoulders, Rintaro’s other hand twisted your jaw in the direction of Oikawa biting his lip, his hand suspiciously following your movements from under the luminescent lights. “Look at that dirty fucker. Let’s show him what he missed out on, yeah?”

A burst of warmth exploded inside you. You were too stunned to move, thighs burning from the ache that you accepted it with delight before falling back into Rintaro’s chest. “That was the best fuck of my life,” you admitted through lidded eyes, “But we’re fucked tomorrow. The whole campus is going to talk about us.”

“Let them.”

Post-nut clarity hit you hard like a truck.

Albeit expecting the rumours and looks you’d be getting the next day, the blatant impressed stares mixed with some envious ones never got easier by the end of classes. Everywhere you went, people would be whispering. But like Rintaro always used to say each time you cried to him, there’d be light at the end of the tunnel, because the best part of it all that made everything worth it?

Oikawa avoided you like the plague. Not because he was appalled of what he’d witnessed and what he’d done, but rather word spread out how he’d been rejected.

For the first time in his life, Oikawa Tooru felt humiliation, at the hands of his own teammate, no less — something Rintaro took pride in when you crashed by his room that night.

“You should’ve seen the look on his face. It was priceless,” he snickered while scrolling through the phone, about to comment when the door swung open, revealing a carbon copy replica of Rintaro. In female version.

Rintaro quickly shot out of bed and threw a blanket over your head, stalking to the girl standing with her mouth hanging ajar at the door. “What are you doing here? I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until the weekend. Plus, how’d the fuck you get inside the dorms? You’re not supposed to be here, Remi.”

Remi ignored him. “Are you hiding your girlfriend? Mom needs to know about this, she’d love to meet her!”

That was how you found yourself stuck to Rintaro in a cramped booth with his family not an hour later. You awkwardly picked at your food, stealing glances at an equally silent Rintaro while his younger sister, Remi, kept babbling about how her brother hid a girlfriend this whole time. His family went out of town for business for a while, but since they got home earlier, they decided to surprise Rintaro with a visit.

He sure was surprised, and so were you since they hadn’t stopped calling you ‘dear’ ever since.

His parents were nice — they warmly welcomed you and even invited you to have dinner with them sometime at their house. Mrs. Suna would whip up a meal to welcome you as part of their family, saying that you should consider it a thanks for making their son smile. Remi was the most excited out of all them. She’d been wanting an older sister for a while now, and she hadn’t stopped clinging onto your arm the whole time until her parents forcefully snatched her away when it was time go back home.

The entire walk back to the dorms felt suffocating.

None of you spoke a word, not until you arrived at your building and Rintaro shoved his hands down his pockets, swinging back and forth on his feet. “So... are you free this Friday? You should come have dinner with us.”

“You’re seriously asking me that?”

“Why not? You’re invited. Don’t be rude and not go.”

“It’s not being rude, Rintaro, you’re asking me to lie to your parents,” you snapped, halting in your tracks to stare at him in disbelief. “They adored me all because they think I’m dating you, but we’re not the least bit close to that. We just fuck and call it day, maybe hang out when we’re bored, but we don’t know each other at all. And weren’t you the one who told me that we can’t be more than just fuck buddies?”

Rintaro rolled his eyes. “You’re right, but I agreed to pretend to be your boyfriend to push Oikawa away. Now do me a favour and keep up with the fake girlfriend thing. My parents will be devastated if I tell them we’re not real.”

“I don’t want to lie to them!”

“It’s not a big deal! Why’re you making a mountain out of everything? So because the deal on my side doesn’t require fucking, you’ll back out just like that?”

Your mouth hung open in shock. “It’s because I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend, Rintaro, I want to date you for real!” you blurted out, eyes widening at the same time Rintaro’s cheeks flushed. Realizing what you just said, you inwardly regretted it with a grimace. “I’m sorry. You said we can’t be more than that and I know I just ruined our friendship, but I’m really sorry. I can’t bring myself to lie to your family like that, and I don’t want to lie about my feelings either,” hanging your head down low, you bit the insides of your cheeks. No matter what you said, you couldn’t take it back anymore.

“Rintaro, I like you. You make me happy and I want to do the same for you, but I understand if we’re done now. It was nice to have met you.”

Without waiting for his response, you ran back into the building when a hand wrapped around your wrist. You stared at the long fingers and to the arm connected to it, heart sinking into your chest when you came face to face with Rintaro’s handsome face.

“You didn’t even give me a chance to speak.”

“I’m sure you don’t want to be near me, Rintaro.”

Rintaro sniffed, averting the intensity of your gaze and shrugging his shoulders shly. “On the contrary... I’d like to spend every waking minute with you,” he mumbled so soft that you wouldn’t have heard it if you didn’t listen hard enough, but you did, and you were left gaping at him with warmth spreading through your skin. You stood there, watching as Rintaro laughed nervously and scratched the back of his head. “Sorry if I said that a little too late, but yes. I’d like to be your real boyfriend. Then I can fuck you exclusively because I don’t think I like the idea of you riding other people like that.”

You swatted his arm away with a laugh. “That’s the reason you want to date me?”

“There’s other reasons too like how I love talking to you and I want to get to know you more,” he cupped your face, grinning when his palms felt the warmth emanating from your skin. “And also, I want to do this more with you.”

Leaning down, Rintaro kissed you under the flickering lights of your hallway, the both of your lips stretching into a smile. In a way, you were thankful your friends tried setting you up with someone else, because if you’d known it would lead you to realizing your feelings for Rintaro, you would’ve asked him to date you a little earlier.

[anneapocalypse]

I cannot help feeling like the tendency to see Inquisition!Leliana in stark contrast to Origins!Leliana has led to some people forgetting what... Leliana is actually like in Origins.

In fairness, as in all Dragon Age games some very revealing character moments happen in party banter which makes it easy to miss. But the gentle-hearted mystic who desires only to draw others unto the love of the Maker has never been all that Leliana is, and it's always been in direct conflict with the side of her that is not only adept at intrigue and yes, violence, but enjoys those things. This is the central conflict of her whole character, and it's not a trivial conflict, because there is not one simple answer to who Leliana truly is. She is both of these things. She is deeply religious and finds comfort in her faith, and thinks it should bring comfort to others as well. She's also prone to gossip and pettiness and all the qualities that helped her thrive as a bard.

There's this one particularly revealing piece of banter with Alistair if the Warden is in a romance with Morrigan:

Alistair: So have you heard? Morrigan and him are... you know. Leliana: Have you nothing better to do than to spread idle gossip? And besides, he can probably hear us both. You're not being very discreet. Alistair: No, look, he's not even paying attention. Leliana: Hmmm. maybe. You don't... think that he's serious about it, do you? The woman is a vile fiend. Alistair: Well, look here, now who's an idle gossip? Me-ow! Leliana: You're the one who started this, I might remind you. And I'm... well, I'm ending it!

I once had the especially entertaining experience of getting this banter, and minutes later hearing Leliana turn to Morrigan to give her the "It's so nice that you're together, isn't love wonderful?" line. But whether or not you have the pleasure of hearing them back to back, I think this dialogue make it pretty clear that while Leliana would like not to think of herself as a gossip, it takes very little prompting from Alistair to get her to slip back into that mean girl persona. And Alistair (who is more perceptive than he often gets credit for), calls her on it immediately, clearly embarrassing Leliana--who realizes that her mask has slipped.

I don't think it follows from this that Leliana necessarily hates Morrigan unilaterally. There's something much more complex going on between them, in my opinion, because they are such distinct opposites in upbringing and personality. Both Leliana's faith and her life of courtly intrigue are nonsense to Morrigan, who neither believes in the Maker nor has much patience for intricate social graces (at least, not yet). Meanwhile, I think Morrigan's outward self-possession and the sense of power she exudes is a source of both fascination and frustration for Leliana, who thinks she understands power, both social and divine--but finds in Morrigan a kind she cannot fully comprehend. (I also think you can definitely feel some sexual tension into their banter, especially the much-beloved banter about the velvet dress.) Ultimately, both of them are very concerned with power, but approach that concept very differently. And Leliana responds to this clash of ideals in a particular way because her own self-image is so conflicted.

As all great Dragon Age foils do, Leliana and Morrigan needle one another, push each other's buttons, challenge one another's sense of self, and in doing so reveal one another in their complexity and sometimes in their ugliness. It is perhaps easy to write this off as the tired trope of women being unable to get along with one another, or conversely to claim that they get along just fine and fandom has fabricated the tensions between them; I think to do either of those things diminishes a genuinely complex and sticky relationship that serves to reveal a lot about both characters.

[oblique-lane]

"Just a bunch more biblical paintings then I'll go back to drawing yaoi" Or you can do both, renaissance style, Michelangelo or Raphael I honestly forgot who drew those naked men on the Sistine Chapel's ceilings ok bad joke aside: I'd love hearing more about your headcannons, specifically about the childhoods of the characters (ranging from the mercs, to Miss pauling, the Administrator, hell anyone you have ideas about!)

Childhood headcanons... How did you know I've had something about that on my mind? Alright, let's talk about...

Little Sniper

(Lots of trigger warnings ahead, check tags!)

Mundy was obviously an unhappy child. When I imagine the surroundings he grew up in, I see miles and miles of empty landscapes, dry yellow grass, unkept barns destroyed by rust and a deep choking sense of loneliness.

The closest neighbour woul be so far away you better bring a bicycle with you if you want to visit. School and Church were the only places to go, which were also very far away. No kids his age nearby. And even if there were peers at school, no one wanted him anyway.

Mundy was "weird", he didn't quite understand other kids' jokes, didn't get what was so fun about what everyone else enjoying to do; he was weaker, always loosing in close fights; he didn't even look very local for whatever reason. Even if he tried to get along with someone, it either ended up with him being ostracized or with him experiencing the greatest boredom imaginable. And the kids quickly picked up on his "difference", making him an object of bullying.

It started with making fun of everything Mundy does, his habits and speech patterns, his morals and ideas... Which wasn't anything too big for him but it was still very annoying and upsetting, he grew to hate school very quickly.

Coming home being exhausted from this kind of socializing, no one would really comfort him. Being very little, he used to tell on his bullies to his parents, telling how hurt he was by their words... And it would only made a mess in his family.

Overreactive mother: "Poor baby, I'm so sorry, I'll tell their parents to stop being mean, my little little baby, maybe we can go homeschooling..."

And a strict father: "Are you a man or what? Yeah, he will end up a bloody baby if you keep spoiling him like that! Suck it up! Of you can't stand for yourself, no one will. At this pace you'll end up a nobody, with no home nor respect from the world".

Mundy didn't want to be neither a baby nor a disappointment. He figured that sharing his feelings with parents wouldn't be that good of an idea, they won't understand anyway. And also that he must fight somehow.

If he can't win in close fights, he thought, he could hit them from a distance: throwing small rocks at the bullies from up the tree...

–He was punished for that. For some reason, every time Mundy fought back, he was scolded by the elders, who for some reason always believed the bullies that HE was the one starting the fights. They forbid him to fight back. He closed his feelings shut and stopped paying attention to almost everything around him.

Why was it like that? Why was he so different from other kids, why couldn't he understand them? Why couldn't he understand anyone in this world? The world was a mess of unspoken rules and suffering, overcoming oneself, pain; he couldn't fit in. He was always on the wrong even if he didn't do anything. He felt like an outsider everywhere he went.

Sometimes he wondered if he was born into a wrong family or that he wasn't a human at all. Looking at the night sky, he was thinking about aliens, maybe they would come to him someday and take him to the planet he truly belongs, being accidentally swapped at birth. Maybe then he will be happy, he will leave this sickening place and finally start living. He thought about dying, too.

He started to spend a lot of time in the forest any chance he got. He was alone here, unwatched, somewhat free. It was easier to breathe here. He was alone but it didn't feel worse than being with those people. He played by himself. He started to believe that he actually liked loneliness.

As Mundy and his peers grew older, the kids started to become more and more savage, thanks to the hormones and age crisis. Bullying intensified as those kids started to feel the need to assert themselves. Mundy was maliciously beaten (he fought back as much as he could and even win sometimes, but the beating only got worse each time). They used any chance to humiliate him.

And each time after that Mundy would take the knife or his father's shotgun and go to the forest to take his anger on animals, "hunting", since he couldn't do anything to fix the root of the problem.

He would hunt for something small, like birds or feral rabbits so he could butcher them and cook on fire to eat. At moments like this he felt like a beast, and somehow it was the most pleasant state for him to be in.

There were no words available to form his pain into, so the pain came through violence. The more violent his abusers became, the more violent he was at his "hunting". The more he felt his father's gaze piercing him with disappointment, the sharper his knife movements would get. Sometimes he would let the bodies to just rot like that, completely butchered in a very non-culinary way.

(Maybe someday he would lure one of those bastards to the forest and kill him the same way and blame it on an animal attack)

And at some point... His classmates would came up with something that would cross all the lines of forgivable. Somewhere there was the peak of what they could do. Something beyond.

There wasn't a known way to him to deal with that. No known words. Everyone would be so grossed out of him if they knew. He was beyond disgusted with himself, too. What was the point of living now?

That day he would shot a wild boar, take his machete out and cut it open, butcher it the way his father would when they wanted a pork dinner for the night... And reached to its heart.

The heart is where the love is stored, right? That's what people say when referring to this "love" he'd never seem to know. A dark read bloody organ that feels like sponge inside of thin rubber. There's something about this that Mundy lacks. He has a heart too, it's pulsating inside him, but for some reason it was unable to produce the "love", a very necessary fluid for a human body. He wondered if it's sweet. He wondered if he was even able to taste it.

He took a bite... And realized what he was doing.

He was, indeed, a monster.

When he went back home, later than usual, he would be met with his father's gaze. He was always throwing gazes, for every occasion, Mundy was used to feel small and guilty under them. But this time... It felt somehow much more personal. More disturbing.

His father looked at him as if he was a dirty little creature, a rat, a maggot. He looked at him the way one would look at a criminal who wronged their whole family. He looked at him like he knew.

His father didn't say anything that day and it wasn't brought up ever again.

Mundy was indeed a monster who was utterly terrified of this though. He didn't want to be one. He made a promise to himself that everything he does will be morally justified, he promised himself to become a good... decent person. He would earn his place in the world, even if his father, everyone else denies it.

It gets blurry at this point. Sniper doesn't really remember his life before about 17, when he was finishing school and starting to work on his sniper licence. For some reason he always knew he would be good at shooting and killing. When remembering his home, Sniper would recall the smell of grass, mother's cooking, the warm sun, and a steady life he had. He knew it was boring, but it still somehow felt like home. Home he felt was lost somewhere he didn't remember.

Either way, he was always a loner.

[squish--squash]

I'm rewatching Good Omens, and noticed something in the first episode that has left me spiraling into a theory.

It's in the scene when Hastur and Ligur are handing Adam over to Crowley. Hastur asks Crowley to sign something beforehand, and:

I thought it was a scribble the first time I watched it bc I was trying to figure out what was going on. But it's not a scribble.

It's not a 'C' either, for 'Crowley' It's not a 'A' or 'J' either, for the rest of his name.

It's an 'L'. It gets hard to see as he's finishing it, but it's the letter 'L'

This is how you write a capital 'L' in cursive:

you swoop up and to the right, drop down, swoop left, and finish on the right.

and Crowley does this with his signature:

here's him beginning the letter, swooping up and to the right

Then he moves down,

loops to the left,

And finishes it as he moves back towards the right (and at this point, the complete letter is hard to make out. It's why I thought it was a scribble the first time I watched this episode)

Crowley's signature on the document Hastur makes him sign before delivering the Antichrist to start Armageddon, something that is arguably one of the most important things hell wants to document, is an 'L'.

WHY?

Why not a 'C', for Crowley, the name he currently goes by? Hastur and Ligur confirm the name itself earlier in the same scene ("What's he calling himself up here these days?"/"Crowley.")

Well, if going by what he claims in a later s1 episode that "Crowley" is his last name (Anthony J. Crowley), it would make sense for one of his initials to be put there.

Except it doesn't, because "Crowley" is not his real name. it's not the name he began with, the one he had as an angel.

So then, what would this name be? What would be a name for an angel, who is now a demon? A demon who was there to tempt eve, as a snake, into eating the forbidden fruit. Someone that brought the stars, and light, to the universe. A name that begins with the letter 'L'.

There's one I can think of that matches, and that name is Lucifer.

"But Squish!" I know some of y'all will comment, "What about that line Crowley said in episode 5? He mentions Lucifer, so it can't be him!"

In episode 5, Crowley says the following: "I never asked to be a demon. I was just minding my own business one day and then...oh, lookie here, it's Lucifer and the guys! Oh, hey, the food hadn't been that good lately. I didn't have anything on for the rest of that afternoon. Next thing, I'm doing a million-light-year dive into a pool of boiling sulphur."

Crowley also says in the second episode: "I didn't mean to fall. I just hung out with the wrong people."

A lot of people believe that it's implied that when Crowley said this, it meant he met Lucifer and hung out with him. But when he says it, it sounds like he's mockingly quoting someone else, talking to him.

The "Lucifer and the guys!" might've been directed to Crowley, using his name. This would match that line from a previous episode, "hung out with the wrong people."

"But Squish!" I know some of y'all will comment after reading that, "What about Satan? Lucifer is Satan, and Crowley isn't Satan!"

And neither is Beelzebub. Fun fact, by the way: One of the many names for The Devil, Satan himself, is Beelzebub. But Beelzebub is a whole different character. So why can't Lucifer be a whole different character too? After all, many people still argue to this day that Lucifer and Satan aren't one and the same...

Also, here's something interesting:

Crowley is the only character in the tv series that has mentioned Lucifer, and it was in that line I mentioned earlier. Lucifer is also mentioned once, in the book, but by Shadwell, mishearing Newt's last name as "Lucifer" instead of "Pulsifer". And Satan? In both the book and the tv show, he is never called another name other than "Satan", usually followed by his fancy and long title. His description in the book's "DRAMATIS PERSONAE" is literally "fallen angel; the adversary". No Lucifer.

And how about this:

Crowley was the one who started the universe, we see that at the beginning of season 2. He was the first one, to our knowledge, to say "let there be light." "Lucifer" means "light-bringer" Crowley was the snake that tempted eve into eating the apple in the garden of eve. We see this in the beginning of episode one. Many claim Lucifer was the one who did that. Crowley fell because he asked questions about how the universe should be run, after seeing its creation and being so proud of it. Many claim Lucifer's big sin that sent him falling was his pride stemming from his beauty causing him to revolt; eerily similar to Crowley asking questions after watching the beautiful universe he helped plan be born and growing protective after learning it was going to get shut down so early in its lifetime, isn't it? Crowley was a powerful angel. This is heavily implied in season 2, with the tiny joint-miracle he and Aziraphale made being as powerful as an archangel's. He has the ability to mask his presence powerful enough to fool Uriel, Michael, and Gabriel (the only other character we've seen have that kind of masking power was the Metatron, who Crowley was also the first to recognize). When going through records with Muriel, they claim only very high-ranking angels have clearance to look through the records of Gabriel, an archangel so powerful he single-handedly had the power to stop "Armageddon 2" from being put into plan; Crowley is able to access them. And Lucifer? Often described as having been a very powerful angel.

Lucifer is such an important name, such an important character, in the theologies surrounding Good Omens. So, where is he? Why has he only been mentioned seriously once, by Crowley?

The answer could be this, simple and short: Because he is Crowley.

EDIT:

I dug up the book. It's been a while since I read it (I honestly don't remember much from the book) and here's what it has to say about Crowley's signature...

"Your real name."

.........

HELLO?

EDIT 2:

I found this post from Neil Gaiman's blog. The wording is confusing me, and I can't tell if this debunks or supports the theory..

What Neil Gaiman says is "That was the angel Lucifer. He doesn't exist any more. Now there's just Satan, the adversary." which might throw this entire thing out of the window, but the thing is: he never said Satan used to be Lucifer. He just said Lucifer doesn't exist anymore, but Satan does.

Furthermore, the person who first asked a question asks more questions, two of them: 1. Is Satan what's left of Lucifer after he fell and stopped existing, and 2. If so, does that mean there was an angel that existed that then fell and turned into crowley?

Neil Gaiman's answer is "As far as Crowley is concerned, the Angel that he was no longer exists. (And his name as an Angel wasn’t Crawley or Crowley.)"

He doesn't confirm or deny anything about Satan in that. All he said was "the Angel that he was no longer exists" and that Crowley's angel name wasn't his demon name.

Huh. Funny. He's saying angel!crowley no longer exists, when he just revealed that Lucifer "doesn't exist any more." Either there's a connection here, or I'm going insane.

[room-surprise]

Analysis of Laios and how he hugs/interacts with people, pre and post-manga.

Reading body language in real life is basically pseudo-science most of the time, however, these aren't candid photographs of real people I'm analyzing, they are drawings purposefully made by Ryoko Kui to tell us something about Laios and his relationships with other characters.

These illustrations are designed on purpose to communicate information. So what do I think they say?

Here's the illustration of how things are at the start of the manga:

NAMARI AND CHILCHUCK

They're both rough towards Laios, expressing displeasure with him, using violent physical touch to get his attention or punish him for something.

TOSHIRO

His reaction to Laios is totally passive. He isn't turned towards Laios, but he isn't turning away either. He's staring up into space with a look of discomfort, suggesting he wishes Laios would leave him alone... But that he is too polite to openly reject him.

We know this is partially a cultural issue: because Toshiro is Japanese, he considers it catastrophically rude to tell someone "no" in a blunt way. He is trying to communicate his discomfort and disinterest to Laios, but Laios isn't understanding Toshiro's signals.

Meanwhile, Laios is turning his whole body towards Toshiro, his eyes are wide open, he's smiling. He's very eager to interact, in a way that he isn't with any other character on this page except Falin.

MARCILLE

They are having a neutral interaction. Neither of them seems excited or interested in each other, but they are talking seriously. Marcille is gesturing at Laios in a way that seems scolding, they are standing at a polite distance, and Laios is standing at his full height, perhaps even leaning/straining away from Marcille slightly. There is a physical object (Marcille's staff) acting as a barrier, and it's physically pushing Laios away from her.

But it is worth noting that he has his hand on the staff, suggesting that he's not letting himself be pushed away any further, that he's having a reciprocal interaction with Marcille, not a passive one where he just stands there and gets lectured. Laios is participating and engaged.

FALIN AND SENSHI

The only people having unambiguously positive interactions with Laios on this page, which makes sense since they are the two people who are the most friendly towards him at the start of the manga.

Laios and Falin are touching hands, smiling and their bodies are turned towards each other, showing enthusiasm and a mutual interest. This is less intense than the hug in the post-manga illustrations, which maybe suggests that there's something distant and unresolved between them here, like resentment and guilt.

Laios and Senshi are closer to each other than Laios and Marcille. Laios is sitting or crouched down to get closer to Senshi's height, and they are both smiling and turned towards each other. Senshi may even be laughing!

Here's the "post-manga" image...

What a huge difference!

All of these interactions are basically positive, so I'll just go left to right, top to bottom. Also for some of these, we can't see Laios' friends full reactions, so I'll focus on what we can see, and how Laios is behaving.

SENSHI

They share a gentle hug. They both have their arms wrapped around each other, so the desire to touch is mutual. Laios bends to reach Senshi, and has a calm, content smile on his face while they hug. Laios rests his head on top of Senshi's head, showing trust and intimacy and a desire to be physically even closer to Senshi than just hugging. Senshi isn't pulling away, so I think that's a good indicator that he doesn't mind it, and possibly even likes it!

Which is a big change from how he felt violated by Laios touching his chest earlier in the manga, even though Laios was trying to heal him... I think Senshi isn't someone that easily lets others touch him, so this is a big improvement.

CHILCHUCK

The size difference makes this hug awkward, but that's not the only reason! Laios has both hands on Chilchuck and he is bending down in order to reach him, suggesting that he wants to embrace his friend, however Chilchuck is not straining to reach Laios, and he is only using one hand to touch him, suggesting that Chilchuck doesn't want to embrace too closely. Chilchuck is willing to allow a hug, and he is willing to touch Laios back, but he doesn't want it as much as Laios does.

I think Laios is aware of this, because he isn't trying to push the hug to a higher level of intensity. He's holding back to the level he thinks Chilchuck is comfortable with.

MARCILLE

They share a happy, but not overly intimate hug. Their chests and bodies are pressed together, but they are turning their heads away from each other.

Laios' hands are resting side by side on Marcille's back, and it seems like she is hugging him back in a similarly loose way. His arms are not overlapping, and they aren't squeezing or grabbing each other, just holding on lightly while pressing their chests together.

TOSHIRO

What a fascinating set of drawings!

I'm going to assume that the color drawing is what happens first, and the black and white line drawing is what happens afterwards, solely because if the black and white drawing is meant to just be Laios' fantasy of hugging Toshiro, then surely he would imagine Toshiro hugging him back enthusiastically, and not a more passive reaction like Kui drew.

Kui wrote a note here to remind readers that hugging is not considered normal in "the East", where Toshiro is from, to give context to why the character seems so uncomfortable.

Laios is approaching Toshiro at high speed, arms open and reaching for Toshiro, eyes wide, with a happy expression. He clearly wants to wrap Toshiro up in a big, enthusiastic hug.

Toshiro is sweating with discomfort, and he has a hand pressed against Laios' chest, attempting to stop him… However, the arm is not extended and his elbow is bent at an acute angle, and it looks as if no force is being applied. Toshiro perhaps feels a need to offer a token protest, but he isn't really trying to stop Laios.

In the black and white hug drawing, Laios has both arms wrapped tight around Toshiro, much tighter than Senshi, Chilchuck or Marcille, and he's pressing their bodies together and resting his head on Toshiro's shoulder. He's turning his face towards Toshiro's neck, and smiling serenely.

Toshiro's body is stiff, he's sweating, and his arm is held at a rigid 90 degree angle… But he isn't using it to push Laios away, just holding it uselessly at his side. Perhaps he is half-way towards returning the hug, thinking about lifting his arm a little higher and resting his hand on Laios' back, but he isn't sure if he wants to do that yet.

Toshiro is bending his body towards Laios, and allowing himself to be pressed against the other man. He's staring out into space with a neutral expression that suggests either discomfort or surprise. I think we're meant to understand that he has given up fighting against the foreign, offensive hug, realizing that it isn't offensive for Laios, and therefore it might be okay to allow it...and it might actually be more offensive if he rejected the hug.

FALIN

Falin has thrown herself at Laios with considerable force, and Laios has his arms overlapping across Falin's back. They are both squeezing each other tightly with their arms, and even Laios' hands are gripping Falin tightly. There is an overjoyed look on Laios' face, and I think this embrace shows how Laios has healed through the course of the story.

KABRU

Since Kabru is one of Laios' newest friends, it makes sense that the hug would be the least intimate.

The two of them have a complicated relationship in the manga, but the complete world bible shows that Laios has finally accepted that Kabru is genuinely his friend and not just trying to use or manipulate him. He's made an effort in the post-canon to reach out and try to be Kabru's friend in return, and Kabru has forgiven Laios for not listening to him in the past.

Kabru is turning his body away from Laios, which puts his shoulder towards Laios' shoulder at a perpendicular angle, forcing distance between them. Laios is fully facing Kabru, and has one arm behind his back, a hand resting on Kabru's shoulder, and another hand resting on his chest. The hand on the chest is attached to an arm that is bent at an obtuse angle, holding Kabru at a distance, with no indication that he is trying to pull Kabru in. Both hands are relaxed, like in the Marcille hug, indicating that Laios' grasp is loose.

This arm position is pretty unusual for an embrace. It allows Laios to keep Kabru at a distance where he can see him, and control where he moves, and how close he's able to get to Laios… and Kabru isn't returning the hug in any way, instead allowing himself to be touched and held in place.

Their bodies aren't pressed together, and Kabru's arm is down at his side, neither encouraging Laios nor pushing him away.

Laios has a big smile on his face, and he looks enthusiastic. Kabru on the other hand has a calm smile. In my opinion his expression is less enthusiastic than Marcille's.

I think Laios can't tell how Kabru feels about the hug, and so he's holding himself back. He's not blinded by emotion like he is with Toshiro, so he's not flinging himself at Kabru… And because Kabru is such a new friend, Laios is also probably hesitant to get too close to him.

There may also be some lingering trust issues, if Laios still isn't completely certain if Kabru genuinely likes him or not. Laios has often had trouble telling if people really like him, or if they are just being polite (Toshiro), or using him (former party members), so it makes sense that it would take awhile for him and Kabru to become truly comfortable with each other..

[discofama]

I love how comfortable Adam and Lute are around each other.

I mean, look at this

So they're casually together during the extermination, much like how friends gravitate towards each other when in an event even if they're not talking or doing anything, just because it feels easier than being alone. Or perhaps Lute flew closer because she saw the huge war machine approaching Adam and got a little worried.

Charlie and Vaggie are going to attack them, and look at what they do:

Despite being Adam the one closer to Vaggie, he doesn't move an inch. They don't say anything (besides the shit talk) and Adam doesn't even look at her, he expects Lute will take care of Vaggie with no order from him, even if he's closer.

Obviously Adam is confident and doesn't think Vaggie can hurt him at all, but he clearly trusts Lute to get her out of the way. He probably knows how bloodthirsty Lute is for Vaggie and lets her have her without a word, and Lute complies, again, without a word, leaving him to handle the strongest of the enemies at that moment (Charlie).

So in this second, Adam and Lute communicated in silence. Adam didn't move and trusted her to cut in even if it was him the one under attack, and finally Lute trusted him to handle Charlie so she could fight Vaggie, as she didn't seem worried at all of the possibility of Charlie coming to protect her girlfriend.

They're in harmony. They're just natural together.

He lets her grab him like this and is willing to listen to her. It's clear he respects her and deep down appreciates that she'll keep him from doing something stupid, even if he whines.

She also climbs him? Lol. (Look at how she holds onto his arm 🥹 she's super comfortable with touching him!)

They're always hyping each other up, like in their songs:

(Look at Lute's smug face here 👇, she's sooo satisfied with what Adam's saying)

I honestly believe that they kinda make each other worse, that neither of them would be SO mean all the time if they didn't have the other: a companion who is always backing them up, who agrees on any crap that comes out of their mouth (Lute lets him talk shit about random women and nods, Adam goes along with Lute's homophobia despite seeming to not care that much about homosexuals).

Many portray Lute being a lot smarter than Adam, but I think they're both dumbasses. I mean, we laugh at Adam for saying he never made a mistake in his fucking life, but it was Lute who first stated angels don't make mistakes, somehow keeping a serious face. I think Lute seems smart because she's more quiet and cares about the rules, but she doesn't do logic very well either and can be impulsive too, as shown in the end of ep. 1.

They're probably each other's best/only friend, because they're just so unlikeable. And it makes sense they'd deeply care for one another. They care about that person that stands them and agrees with them and actually enjoys being with them. They're always seen together, hanging out even off duty. They clearly have a lot of fun.

I'll be honest. I ship GuitarSpear, I love it, but I don't know if I want it to be canon for 2 reasons:

1. Lute might be a lesbian.

She is so repulsed by homosexuals that it feels personal. Talking about how disgusting and blasphemous Charlie and Vaggie's love is, or how many cocks were in Angel's mouth and calling him a whore. She cares too much about it for it to not be personal, and I think it makes sense that she'd be a closet lesbian with a shit ton of internalized homophobia. She probably knew about Vaggie's sexuality and held a lot of resentment towards her before tearing off her wings. Maybe she was even attracted to her and was so repulsed about it that she redirected her self-hatred to Vaggie.

2. I think it could be better for Adam's character.

Let's just think about it. This character has a very distorted view of women, he has a fixation on them and hypersexualizes them. So the idea of this horny man, who always sees women with sex colored glasses, being good friends with a hot female below him in the hierarchy with no sexual or romantic interest whatsoever is nice to me. It'd work as sort of a redeeming quality in regards of his relationship with women, and I personally think this man is very redeemable. Let's hope he gets a second chance!

Still! All of this trust and comfort and team feelings can be read as romantic and I certainly wouldn't mind if it becomes canon! They could be the best villain couple!

Summarizing, these two are soulmates, end of the story. They're worse together, but also probably provide the other of a very needed company.

I have no clue if Adam will actually come back, but if he doesn't, I'll feel very bad for Lute. Yeah, yeah, she's an evil bitch, I don't care.

[mind-lost-in-the-stars]

a very minor thing about Richie’s death that’s bothered me for awhile now is how Pete and Ruth (I suppose Grace and Steph as well) don’t piece it together after it’s mentioned that Zeke the Fightin’ Nighthawk was murdered

clip for context

i will say that the digital ticket shows more remorse from both Ruth and Steph, but only after Richie is name dropped so yeahh…why didn’t they know Richie was the mascot when other people like Jason (and most likely Max) did? we also know him being the mascot isn’t a recent development after Max dies thanks to Jason’s “member of this team who’s gone unappreciated for far too long” line. that to me implies at least since the beginning of their senior year

a few ideas:

- he never told them because max threatened him is the theory that makes the most sense since “Jägerman doesn’t let nerds go to football games”, but this means he let Richie be the mascot for some unknown reason. was it to let Richie have a bit of happiness that Max still ultimately had control of. I don’t know, but it’s fun to think about

- it’s also very possible he never told them because he never had a reason to tell them, but Richie seems like the type of person to talk about the things that make him happy, and he clearly enjoys being zeke

-maybe max never knew, and Richie knew that if he found out that Max would beat him up for it, but this leaves the question of how Jason knows. if Jason knew and not Max, shout out to Jason for not being a snitch—love that man

- (take this one with a big ol’ grain of salt if u don’t like michie related things) there’s a chance that Richie being the mascot allowed him to see other sides of Max that weren’t just the bullying side which made Max grow on Richie even just a little bit. he of course wouldn’t want Pete and Ruth to know about this, so he kept that and him being the mascot to himself. Jon matteson mentioned once on a stream how out of the nerds Richie felt the worst about Max’s death and maybe that’s because he was (by process of elimination) the closest to Max in that group

- a sadder theory is that Pete, Richie, and Ruth actually just weren’t that close of friends. they all kind of just formed a group at a young age cause they were all labeled as nerds and sorta just stuck with each other through life cause they didn’t have anywhere else to go. I know it’s implied in “go, go nighthawks” that Richie being late to class isn’t abnormal, but for him to be missing for NEARLY THREE FUCKING DAYS and to have neither Ruth or Pete bat an eye either says something about them, something about Richie, but definitely says something about their dynamic as a group. (this is absolutely just theorizing about worst possible scenarios in no possible way do I see this one being the case)

I know it’s not a big deal like at all (and is a problem with a lot of other slasher media), but it always gets to me when characters move past the death of one of their best friends so fast just because a show needs to keep the plot moving.

*sigh*

either way, Richie deserved so so so much better and I hope he’s being held by Rei and Asuka in wherever the hell he ended up <33

[sinfullyrosey]

(Pussy) Slappin’ Them Fins

Floyd & Jade Leech X GN!Reader

Warnings: Dubcon, Bondage (technically), Fingering, Pussy Slapping, Forced Orgasms, Dom!Reader (again technically), The Twins got Pussies

I’m uno reverse carding all those reader insert fics where the Reader gets violated by the tweels by having Reader violate them.

You’re welcome.

All Characters are 18+

Going to the beach with the Leech twins after they managed to convince (note: threaten) you wasn’t looking so bad right about now. The weather was actually rather sunny and nice, not to hot nor too windy. It was the perfect time to take a dip in the sea, maybe built a sandcastle or two and collect some seashells.

But it was neither of these reasons that changed your mind on the whole matter. Rather, it was the sight you found after taking a brief nap and finding the twins missing. You had called out to them, only to be met with silence. It wasn’t until wandering around a bit more and picking up distant sounds of chirps and gurgles growls that you followed to a hidden rock pool, where you proceeded to find the two missing brothers in their eel forms.

They had managed to get themselves ensnared in a fishing net, something only squabbling, little elvers would manage to get themselves into, yet here they are. You don’t know how they got like this nor did you care.

It was probably Floyd’s fault anyways, the troublemaker.

You decided to stand back to see if they needed any help. You noted that both were stuck in the rocky area but were still slightly submerged in the water, so no risk of drying out or drowning, thankfully. The net had wrapped itself around their tails, torsos, and heads, but didn’t seem to be constricting any vital areas, just kept them in place and prevented them from moving around as freely. They did appear to try and cut the rope with their claws and teeth, but to no avail.

Maybe the nets were merfolk proof? Would make sense as you could picture these two, specifically, stealing some poor fisherman’s catch by cutting the nets and snatching the fish for themselves. Still doesn’t explain why it’s on the beach though. Washed up on shore perhaps? Bet Floyd tried throwing it at Jade as a prank and only got them both trapped.

Probably. Most definitely.

Actually… now that you think about it, this is the first time we’ve ever seen either in such a situation, so now you had the perfect opportunity to get a better look at their merforms without the fear of them trying to drown or bite you…

Hm.

You had always been curious about their anatomy and how it varied from humans’. Specifically, you were curious about the slits located lower on their bodies. They didn’t have any visible genitalia, and yet, had that thin line near where one’s genitals would be.

The twins have never respected your own personal space before and had even poked and prodded at you while swimming and vulnerable, trying to get a peek or two. "They were only curious." they would say. "Just wanted to learn how you and they differed." they claimed.

Well, you were just as curious, and they were just as vulnerable in this moment. So, why not do some prodding of your own?

You approached the tangled twins, eyeing them, looking for that special spot on them. Floyd was a lot more tangled up than Jade, having struggled more fiercely due to hating being restrained. He was huffing and snorting in his native tongue, spitting sounds you could only surmise to be swears. Jade, in contrast, was more calm and calculating, trying to keep the struggling to a minimal as his brother’s movements only served to tighten the ropes around both of them even more.

He looked at you with a hint of relief and slight sheepishness, knowing how unbecoming the two of them look to you, but believing you were there to (begrudgingly) help them. After all, you were always cleaning up NRC’s messes and aiding other students without anything in return. It was just rather embarrassing that this was the situation they needed your help in.

You bent down next to them, seemingly looking for where best to cut or unravel the net. At least, that’s what they thought you were doing.

You gently placed your hand onto Jade’s tail, making his pupils dilate then constrict down to slits in response. He stiffened and followed your movements. Searching. Getting closer. Then you did the same to Floyd, who jumped and flopped his tail when he felt something suddenly touch him in his already volatile state. Both twins were watching you now, following along to where your hands were wandering to.

Mismatched eyes leered as both hands landed right next to a pair of thin, almost unnoticeable lines. Neither move as you studied the spots curiously, fingertips softly pressing down on the surrounding area. Floyd’s tail tip lashed agitatedly back and forth as you continued your prodding.

It wasn’t until you carefully used your fingers to spread open Jade’s slit slightly that the two finally had enough and attempted to strike.

The two tried snapping at you with razor sharp teeth, but the nets held them back, acting as a makeshift muzzle they had issues biting into. This sudden movement from both of them startled you back, but also managed to tighten the net around them enough that neither could barely move.

The ropes dug into their scales, not enough to cut through, but enough to hurt and squeeze those diamond-shaped patterns into their slippery bodies. Floyd began thrashing again but stopped, finally, when Jade bellowed out a gargled snarl at him.

You surmise he told him to stop as his struggling is what was tightening their binds and would only make things worse for them. Both huffed and turned their attention back to you, still gazing down at them.

They were completely at your mercy now.

Too bad you didn’t have any left to give.

Your fingers went back to grazing along the thin slits, making Jade jolt and trying to carefully curl his body away, but couldn’t. Your other hand did the same with Floyd’s earning much of the same results from the twin. You continued your exploration, finger pads feeling the smooth slickness of their openings.

Both twins were tensing up at your prodding, quiet, throaty gargles and hisses escaping passed their lips as you rubbed circles against their sensitive entrances. Both were starting to open up more under your treatment and even leak this clear, sticky liquid. Honestly, you were expecting to see two long cocks slip out, but no, this was all they had it would seem.

You smirked as the two troublesome twins became puddy in your hand, squirming and writhing as you worked at their aquatic pussies. The both of them were chirping up a storm, tails occasionally lightly thrashing in pleasure.

Your fingers slipped in with ease as you began to pump your fingers into them, feeling around along the entrance. The two started to croon and purr at the light intrusion. You chuckled to yourself as their walls squeezed around you, much like how their tails would around prey.

“Cute. Never seen either of you so docile before.” You teased.

That earned you a hiss and two squirmy eels trying once again to get out of their bindings and make you their shared chew toy, only for the cruel reminder to dig into their soft flesh once more.

But you weren’t having any of it and frowned.

It was Floyd’s attempt to lung at you through the net barrier against his brother’s warnings, that caused you to land a quick swat to his sensitive, little slit. The sharp and sudden pain made him yelp and yield back. You quirked a brow at the reaction and proceeded to swat at him again, harder. This time, he let out a gargled moan as his pussy twitched from the pain.

Huh. Interesting.

You turned your gaze over to Jade whose pupils were now blown wide as he stared you down, just daring you to try anything.

And try something you did.

Just like with his brother, your gentle touches turned into harsh slaps to his vulnerable pussy, earning you the same exact reaction out of Jade.

Oh.

Well now, this is interesting.

Without any warning, you proceeded to relentlessly slap both of their pussies with the palms of your hands, sending wave after pleasurable wave of pain straight to their core. Floyd and Jade could only squirm helplessly as their slits became more and more puffy and red from your spanks. They pleaded helplessly in their native tongue for you to stop or slow down and to just let them cum already, please.

Before long, both reached their peaks and crashed hard, their orgasms hitting simultaneously and sending them overboard. Their walls clenched around nothing; holes squirted out their messy juices as you continued to harshly slap them through their orgasms.

You finally relented when both twins gave out and slumped in their spots, trying to come down from their highs as their pussies fluttered and twitched. You chuckled at their blissed-out expressions, eyes nearly rolled back into their skulls and mouths hung wide open, panting and wheezing.

You hummed in satisfaction, gently patting both of their tails in praise.

“Aww, you both did so good and even came together like the good, little sea whores you are!” You chirped.

They only glared at you, but quickly lost any remaining malice and started chirping again when your fingers returned to rubbing at their entrances, once again breaching inward and pumping in and out of them at a slow pace. You chucked as their bodies resumed their needy squirming from before.

“Let’s see if mereels have a sweet spot too, hm?~”

[tteokdoroki]

THE PERFECT SHADE OF PURPLE - suguru geto.

✩ — about. “i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop.” suguru geto never thought he’d end up here. in a new city with a new job and a new life. he never wanted to lose his little sister to his best friend. he never wanted to replace her. never wanted to fuck someone who looked exactly like her. but here you are, and geto can’t help but want you the same way he wants her. he just had to get that off his chest… ( 11.4K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! dark content, nsfw, smut, hurt-comfot, open ending - video banner ! AITA-verse!au (read part one here !), bakery!au, italics mean the characters are speaking in japanse, situationships, co-dependency ( on suguru geto ), manipulation, gaslighting, praise, use of oni-chan/nii chan/imouto, fingering (f!receiving), public sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f!receiving), overstimulation, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, creampies, bilingual!geto, japanese speaking + fem!reader.

✩ — things to note. hehe hi everyone!!! pls im reposting this again :( it was written as a gift for @todorosie and the very idea spawned from her love for geto in my AITA gojo fic !! it’s sort of a continuation and set in the same universe so you might need to read to understand the plot. special thanks to @antizenin for beta reading n helping me come up with some ideas !! enjoy guys, mwah mwah - m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

look, i know it’s bad… but my adopted sister and i were always close. she looked up to me and needed me for everything, up until a month ago when she betrayed my trust and fucked my childhood best friend.  i got a therapist, went low contact and moved to a completely different country in order to avoid w everything. but nothing helped, i think of my sister every day and sometimes… i picture bad, dirty things. recently i met this girl, she’s the spitting image of my adoptive little sister. they look the same, act the same — i think i’ve started falling for her. i buy her gifts like i would for my sister and she likes them. we recently fucked at her place of work, i know it’s wrong but i just can’t stop. 

TLDR: i’m fucking and have feelings for a girl that’s a carbon copy of my adopted younger sibling.

the city of new york is meant to be the city of dreams.

at any given moment, your fate can change. anything can happen here, you can make it big and live out your life or you can go home and lead one of regret. suguru geto feels like neither are true for him. the bustling city and flashing lights, busy concrete streets and honking taxis bring the dark haired  man anything but joy. suguru isn’t happy here, in new york, despite all the wonders that it holds — irregardless of the grand job opportunity he has waiting for him just around the corner. 

suguru geto had the chance of a lifetime to develop his career as a criminal defence lawyer in one of the most opportune cities in the world. his dream since he was old enough to understand the wrongs of the world. 

but that’s merely not enough to keep him content, to make him want to stay. 

he doesn’t want to go home either, he’s sure he would hate himself for thattoo. it would be a waste of suguru’s talents to return to japan prematurely, with its nauseating air and sense of betrayal that follows him everywhere he goes. home is supposed to be where one is happiest and safest — it’s where his family is, where he was raised and first opened his eyes. but for the lawyer, japan no longer serves to comfort him and only constantly reminds the man of his little sister, who’d fucked his best friend just a month prior. 

that very instance was enough reason for him to leave the country in the first place — he had to get out, had to escape the very fact that haunted him day and night. 

like any other adult with a shit load of trauma, suguru invests in the best therapist his money can buy — especially now that he can’t spoil is younger sister with it. the older woman with her stuffy office, beady eyes and chipped painted nails had prescribed the man with a short break, a change of pace from the life he was used to, to give himself the grace and time to heal from the heartbreak of losing the two most important people in his life. his best friend, satoru gojo, and his adoptive little sister. 

he had no idea where gojo was now, thirty days later, and suguru knew his little sister had probably moved out of their hometown by now to kick start her career. so even if all of that meant that suguru geto could go home…he wouldn’t. he would use the vastness of new york to give himself the breathing room he needed to heal, fill his bloodstream with fresh oxygen so that it would clot and cover up his fresh wounds of betrayal, turn scabs into scars and let him slowly recover.

at least that’s what his therapist had told him to do — in the suffocating purple walls of her office. 

yet, so far, suguru’s escape to new york hadn’t exactly gone according to plan. every corner of the city painfully reminds him of the hole in his heart, where his innocent little sister should be. after her graduation he’d planned on taking her here as a reward for all of her hard work, but now, suguru faces his own bitter reality — every landmark has her face etched into its side, skyscrapers and their glass windows refract the light of her smile, while famous dinner spots tie to the endless list of reservations she’d reminded suguru to make. hell, even his daily routine of hailing infamous yellow taxi cabs reminds him of her precious excitement to go. 

new york was a city big enough for both geto siblings, but too large for just the one. 

it’s a wonder that suguru has been able to live without his sister for this long — it’s only been a month but he’s spent his entire life looking out for her. protecting her. he hardly knows what to do with himself now that he has all this extra time. 

suguru knew that she was way too dependent on him, it was bad — he was painfully aware of that. but he couldn’t help it, she needed someone to protect her and nurture her, she needed someone to teach her about the dangers of the world. she needed her big brother. perhaps if the dark haired man had been less protective of his sister and given her some sort of independence… then maybe he wouldn’t miss her so much, he wouldn’t have lost his best friend as collateral damage in the process. he would still have the two of them, and she could be happy with gojo. 

the guilt of what ifs and what could have beens tirelessly weigh down suguru’s heart at the thought — he caused this. this rift between the soul-bonded pair. if he had raised her better, let her spread her wings like a free bird, then he would still have her in his life. 

at this point, he’s realised something dire. suguru can’t live without her, his little sister. her bright eyes in the morning and the sweet tune to her voice when she calls out for him — it’s weird, it’s bad…how much he misses and needs her. borderlining on strange, it’s only now that suguru realises how unhealthy their dynamic as siblings had been. how reliant he was on his baby sister to need him. it should have never been that way, he shouldn’t need her so desperately to function. keeping her under such a close watch was probably what drove her into the arms of satoru in the first place. 

the concrete wilderness of suguru’s new home provides no relief from these epiphanies and the chambers of his heart that slowly seem to be dying without his sister. instead he feels trapped in his own addiction, as if he’s going through the withdrawal after dependency on drugs. 

whenever suguru feels immense waves of guilt, like a tsunami that might pull him under and replace the clean air in his lungs with the murky water of his own sour thoughts and emotions; whenever he misses home a little too much; whenever he feels like the world his crashing down on him once more — his therapist and her purple nails tapping against her clip board comes to mind. she tells suguru to take a walk, especially when he’s overcome with thoughts of the situation back in december. when his chest feels too tight and feels like picking up the phone and calling his sister before he’s ready to. 

so geto does just that, lugging on his winter coat as he prepares to take a walk downtown while the sun sets.

suguru tends to think that his therapist is full of shit. 

she believes in the colour purple, she believes that there is purpose and meaning in concepts like colours that are based on fact and science. the light reflects, and people see colour. 

as she had explained to the man in an hour long session just two weeks ago, purple is supposed to be the colour of healing; though to suguru, purple makes him feel sick. it’s everywhere, in the lavander-ish off-white walls of his new york-rented apartment, the flowers in the stalls on his way to work, the skies at night. suguru thought he was a rational man, that he was calm and collected — able to see the reasons behind everything he comes across…but he still doesn’t understand the significance of colours like purple and its connection to healing. 

all suguru knows is that he did like the pretty hollow shade that formed a ring around satoru’s bright blue eyes. of course, after having the shit beaten out of him for touching what belonged to suguru. for corrupting his innocent baby sister. 

aside from that, tonight’s walk is mostly uneventful, full of couples getting ready for date night and business people heading home to their happy families for the night. suguru despises them, strangers on the street minding their own business. he hates these passer-bys for their happiness, a joy he can no longer experience. going home. it leaves a bitter taste on his tongue. 

he misses his family. the warmth and love from his mother, the poor jokes from his father… the looks of adoration and hugs from his sister. it’s not fair. he shouldn’t have had to give that up because of the selfish actions of his ex-best friend. 

suguru decides to turn back and head for his apartment when the street lamps start to flicker and turn on. 

however, on his commute, a familiar scent tickles his senses and brushes over his nose. the man finds himself following, enchanted by rich flavours that he recognises from his youth — sweet red bean and spicy curries overlay the city’s natural smells and suguru makes an attempt to track it down. like a fool, he sprints after the scent like a hound dog tracking a hunt and stops a few strides short of a quaint japanese bakery with a set of deep indigo flowers climbing up it’s worn down exterior. 

suguru recognises the flowers to be shobu. irises. 

standing before the sliding doors, geto inhales, overwhelmed and overcome with emotion. the sweet smell triggers memories of home and how his parents would take him and his sister out to get treats when they were small. how that became a tradition for the geto siblings when they were old enough to go out on their own. 

he remembers how his sister would beg him for a box of sakura mochi every time they went, and how he would so easily relent — even if it meant spending all of that week’s pocket money. suguru is so carried away with his thoughts that he hardly notices himself taking steps into the bakery, or lining up at the counter, or you.

calling him up to the counter. 

you’re a pretty girl. that’s the first thing suguru notices. your eyes are beautiful, a deep brown that reminds him of roasted chestnuts and warm chocolates, your face is round with a soft edge of youth. the uniform that you wear hugs every dip and curve of your body and the braids you have are lengthy and black, perfectly framing your face. when you speak, your voice carries gentle dulcet notes that make suguru’s heart flutter — like music to his ears. 

you are one thousand percent suguru geto’s type and everything about you, this little bakery attendant, reminds suguru of his younger sister. 

right then and there, everything clicks into place for him. 

“sir, can i get you anything?” you ask him kindly, not wanting to push or scare away a potential customer. nor pressure the handsome stranger, since he’s holding up your line. “sir?” you repeat, finally garnering his attention after squirming under his intense stare. 

not that you mind being stared at by him, for this particular customer is right up your alley. 

from his milky skin, desperate to be marked, to his lengthy dark tresses that you’re dying to pull at and tug. his jaw is angular, sharp enough to the point where you fear you would cut yourself should you have the chance to touch it. despite the razor edges to his features, he looks kind…almost wistful, at most. a quality that does nothing to calm the hungry flame catching light in your lower tummy.

the two of you remain admiring one another until a customer in the queue clears their throat impatiently — causing both of you to jump. 

“s-sorry,” geto mumbles the apology quickly, his pale cheeks tinged with a subtle pink despite how hot they feel. he’s suddenly become all too aware of the line that he’s holding up. one that he’s not even supposed to be in, since he’d walked in here on instinct anyway. his dark, narrow eyes sweep the counter in search for something, anything to order so that he doesn’t look like a complete idiot in front of you or the rest of the customers. 

more specifically, yourself. 

“i would recommend the sakura mochi,” then, like an angel sent from the heavens, you try your luck in conversing with suguru in japanese. his nervous and skittish gaze shoots up to your face, shoulders sagging in relief and familiarity. you truly are like a piece of home. like his little sister. suguru likes that more than a normal man should. “they’re popular amongst our customers, it’s taken our owner years to perfect her recipe with the ingredients here. especially since leaving japan.” 

suguru grins and nods, spotting the dessert he’s so accustomed to buying in the display cabinet. his heart lurches, yearning for his little sister. “these?” he whispers to you, the syllables of his native language curling around his tongue naturally. “they look just like the ones from home.”

there’s a sparkle in your eyes when he responds, and you continue to speak to him in sugary tones. “they taste just as goodtoo, i promise!”

“then, i’ll take a box.” 

“how many? they come in boxes of four, eight and sixteen pieces.”

“just the four, please.” 

taking your tongs from the metal counter behind the cabinet, you fish out four of the best pieces of sakura mochi and tentatively place them into a pre-folded cardboard box for the handsome customer. as he dives deep into his pocket for his card to pay, you quickly add an extra piece — uttering something about it being on the house under your breath. 

the action leaves both of you bashful and suguru taps his card on the machine you’ve set up for him to pay. “ah, thank you…” suguru searches for your name in the candy scented air and you tap your badge with a cute acrylic nail to draw attention to your name which he breathes out in a husky tone, failing to mask its curious lilt as he returns to english.

“no worries, have a good evening, sir.” you giggle shyly, still managing to bid him farewell. 

on his way home, suguru can’t help but to replay the entire interaction in his head over and over again. in his brief three minutes of meeting you, you’d managed to fix the hole in his heart, help it beat properly again. you’re just like her, his little sister, and that is a dangerous fact. 

he reaches his apartment with a flushed face, feeling a little flustered, but a lot better than he was before the start of his walk. 

after work, a few days later, geto finds himself back in front of the bakery, working up the courage to go inside and see you.  

no matter how hard he tried and how much of his work he tried to throw himself into — suguru couldn’t get the vision of you out his head. your saccharine laugh haunted him as he reviewed case files, your timid smile chased him through his lunch break and your small act of kindness (speaking with him in Japanese) has him all worked up and blushing by the time he’s able to clock out for the day. 

the dark haired  man feels insane, he knows that this is weird — projecting the image of his adoptive sister onto you, but like a man on drugs he can’t seem to quit. he needs to get his fix. he needs to see you again. entering the bakery once again is like stepping into a new domain, and suguru damn near forgets his simple plan to talk to you. order sakura mochi, say thank you, and leave. while he waits in the queue, his courage mounts in slow stacks and anxiety fades, but by the time he’s up front and face to face with you again — suguru’s brain is completely wiped of every word he was going to say. 

“ah, it’s you again!” you greet him in japanese once more, instinctively reaching to brush your braids out of your face in order to look more presentable to the handsome stranger who’s been plaguing your thoughts as well. suguru thinks you’re cute, regardless of the rice flour smeared across your cheeks and the various mysterious (though surely tasty) stains that decorate your uniform. he even finds it endearing, the way that you share the same nervous gesture of playing with the ends of your braids like his little sister. “i was just wondering when you were going to come in from the… mmm, cold? you’ve been standing and… uh! staring from out there for a while.” you continue to tease the man warmly in his native tongue, choosing your words carefully and avoiding eye contact with him while you prep the tongs for his order. “what can i get for you today?”

so much for not humiliating himself in front of the pretty girl. “i’m sorry… i’ll just take some sakura mochi again,” suguru begins, this time in english to spare you the trouble of overthinking everything that you say. “i was trying to figure out how to do this,” he places a wad of cash on the counter while you prepare his order. your chocolatey eyes blow wide, sweet glazed lips parting softly at the mere sight. you’re sure there’s enough money in the stack to cover an entire week’s worth of your wages and if a stranger can just give away such a large amount… it makes you wonder what he’s even doing at a humble place like this. “it’s a tip from last time. i never got to thank you.” 

“oh… i was just doing my job!” you stammer out politely and prepare to reject the tip, but suguru refuses to let you refuse his gift — forcefully pushing the ‘tip’ over the edge of the glass. he really couldn’t help but to give the money to you, hardly fighting the urge to spoil you with cash like he would with his little sister. besides, the man earned more than enough to drop it on you without putting a dent in his pocket. 

“you did more than that… just the simple act of kindness in conversing with me, a stranger, in japanese. that was nice of you.” suguru counters. “thank you. how did you know?” 

you work on preparing a thin and white cardboard box for his order before walking along the dessert counter, followed by you. “i had a feeling, a lot of people come in here when they’re missing something,” he frowns and your eyes finally meet his. “someone.” you breathe out, quietly. “i took a guess, figured you might have been from japan.” 

“well, you were correct…” 

your heart skips a beat at the sound of your name on his tongue as he says it. it’s so gentle it makes you feel faint and you’re absolutely charmed by a man you hardly know. “does that earn me brownie points…?” you trail off, wanting to capture his name. 

“suguru.” 

“ah, suguru meaning…” giving the man a once over, you drink in his tall frame and dark eyes, the small quirk to his plush lips as he smiles at you… and think. he’s the perfect man in every way, soft spoken and clement, even if he did have flaws or a dark secret — you would definitely choose to ignore it in favour of spending more time with him. once you find the word you’re looking for (and snap out of staring at the poor guy) you speak again. “excellence…it suits you.” 

geto chuckles quietly in response, amused by your take away.  “your name suits you too, darling. it’s just as beautiful as you.” 

when you giggle and grow shy at his compliment — the honeyed melody only serves to remind suguru of his little sister once more. in that moment, he feels something bad and almost wretched stir in his gut just from watching you turn bashful over him. a dark thought in the back of his kind tells him to keep you, so that he can see you like this more often. it urges him to make you need him. like he would have with his little sister. 

he’s starting to project, he’s sure, but you make it easy for him, with your puppy dog eyes and tiny little smiles. once geto’s order is packed, four little squares of sakura mochi wrapped in emerald green and brined sakura leaf — smelling of spring and red bean, he pays (with a hefty tip) and inspects the box. “you’ve got to stop giving me things for free, darling. we’ve only just met.” he chides fondly, scolding you like a child as if to make sure you won’t get in trouble with your job. he’s counted five mochi instead of four — just like last time. “won’t this hurt business?” he coos down at you — sending your body into a fit of shivers despite the warmth of your uniform. 

“well, i’d consider us friends now that you’ve come specifically to see me. friends can’t give each other gifts?” you quip cheekily — much like suguru’s sister would. “you got to spoil me today, no one is going to notice an extra piece of mochi going missing.” 

“friends it is,” surugu purrs right back in satisfaction, preparing to take his leave. cautiously, as though not to spook you like a hunter after a deer in the woods — he reaches over the counter to pat your head affectionately, internally pleased with the way you keen into his touch. “i hope to see my new friend around more often, then.” he hums with pride, and you nod your head eagerly. 

like a puppy. like you want to please him. 

it reminds geto all too much of his little sister — who only ever wanted to make the dark haired man proud. 

over the coming weeks, suguru finds himself at the bakery more often than not. as though it’s a part of his daily routine. 

he’ll take his walk after work, stop by and purchase some sakura mochi, before leaving you with another little gift. at first, his gifts started out as wads of cash in place of tips, then slowly turned to more materialistic things, items that you could hood or wear as if they were to geto’s his claim on you. like flowers, jewellery or clothes. things you couldn’t afford on your own, things he’d like to see you in, things his little sister would like to receive if they were still in contact with one another. 

suguru knows that you can’t afford these things because you’ve let it slip over coffee and mochi that you rent the apartment above the bakery from the old woman who owns it and can barely afford the new york rent as well. he also learns that you were hired because of your ability to speak, read and write in Japanese. 

as much as suguru has spoiled you in the last few weeks, you won’t let him pay your rent though, so tips have sufficed for now. 

nowadays, the time spent moping around his apartment while mourning the relationships that he lost are spent growing increasingly obsessive over you. hours upon hours are wasted on thoughts of what gift he might buy you next — like more comfortable work shoes, an umbrella to get you home safe during the rain that just so happens to be designer. suguru spoils you under the guise of just being your friend — at least that’s what it is to you. 

to him, he’s spoiling his baby sister. someone who is feeble and needs his help and his protection. he doesn’t tell his therapist any of this, of course, she would deem it unhealthy to see how much of his money and time he’s blown in a little cafe worker.  

a cafe worker who’s important to suguru, who haunts his dreams with her perfect curves, and pouty lips whenever he brings you a small gift of his affections. “sugu,” you’ve resorted to calling him, just like his sister would. the nickname was the result of a time where you’d written his name on a coffee order, and customers complained you were taking too long. so geto had told you that you could call him ‘sugu’ instead. however, he would omit details on how badly it affected his brain chemistry …to hear someone he cared for call him that again. “you don’t have to get me an expensive gift just because i make you coffee and get you sweet treats.” 

“it’s not just because you get me sweet things or make me coffee,” he had responded, leaning over the counter flirtatiously. “it’s because you do such a good job. you take care of me and my order every evening. make sure i get the best of the best. how could i not thank my sweet little barista.” 

you wouldn’t say it, but he knew you liked the praise. he wondered if you felt as dirty and as thrilled as him during these little exchanges between the two of you. on that specific occasion, geto decided to gift you with a pendant, similar to the one he’d gotten his sister — only this time, a purple amethyst sits in its centre rather than the blue gem all too familiar to satoru gojo’s piercing eyes.

maybe this is what his therapist meant by healing. suguru is healing by getting over his sister and replacing her with you. 

you are the one that haunts his dreams now, makes his cock stir inappropriately. another thing that suguru woulda never tell his therapist — is that sometimes when he really needed it, he would think of his little sister while fisting his cock into the night air. they weren’t really related, only by adoption so it wasn’t too wrong. sometimes he’d think of her getting railed by satoru, but nowadays he would think of you on his cock instead, calling out for suguru like you need him to function. 

‘nii-san!’ - this and ‘please sugu! ’- that, each word uttered in his sister’s voice would quickly morph into yours — the quivering sweet sound always resembling his little sister’s when she cried. suguru, the dark haired  man, imagined you would react the same. and more often than not, it was your face that he pictured when he was about to cum. 

every single gift suguru got for you were the result of him dreaming about how much he needed you, someone to spoil and protect. someone to need him. 

tonight, suguru is a little late for his daily visit to your bakery. 

tonight, an important case at his firm had rolled in at the last minute and required attention before a preliminary hearing — but even his job couldn’t keep suguru geto away from you. when he arrives at the bakery, you’re still there, having left the doors unlocked for him to come inside. 

tonight, there is no long line of customers out the door to build up the anticipation between you both, the lights have already been deemed and there’s not a trace of life inside of the bakery. aside from yourself, of course.

tonight, you’re on the closing shift instead of the owner’s grandson, choso. who you reassured suguru you weren’t interested in the first time they’d met. with gentle eyes that masked the dark haired  man’s fury, geto had told you that he was the only man you’d ever need and you believed him — suguru had a charm for making people dependent on him. 

the tiny silver bell stationed at the door jingles and signals geto’s arrival, but you hardly look up from your work — keeping your back to him while you sweep at nothing. you’re hiding the excitement that prickles down your spine, you’ve been waiting to get the man alone for weeks and now that you’re able to… you can hardly contain yourself. 

“excuse me, uh…” he says your name so sweetly, as though the words on his tongue are laced with honey. pretending not to know you only makes tonight more thrilling. “are you open? do you have any sakura mochi to spare?” it’s only then that you whirl around to face suguru, your deep brown eyes still bright despite the dimness of the empty bakery — they sparkle with elation, and the plump curve of your lips spike up into an easy smile. you’ve been waiting, suguru notes, like a good little girl.

like a puppy waiting for her owner. 

you’ve been waiting to see him. 

anticipation claws at the air, sending ripples of kinetic energy into the space between you both — where suguru waits at the door and you stand front and centre in the middle of the room. his murky eyes slink down to your neck where one hand fiddles with the silver chain of your pendant, your nails tapping at the amethyst in its centre. in the same way his sister does when she’s nervous. 

neither of you know what’s going to happen tonight, now that you’re finally alone. 

“we have some in the back,” you swallow down the heartbeat in your throat you nod shyly when you finally speak. it’s weird how your body has started to react to suguru after weeks of getting to know him, being spoiled by him. the clothes you wear are now covered in traces of him, the jewellery you own is paid for by his dime. this…stranger, who you hardly know yet feel like you know everything about, has invaded every inch of your life… and you’re not even mad about it. you’d rather die than let this go. “i just need to lock up first. if you’ll give me a moment.”

you approach him cautiously, practically pressing your breasts against his chest as you reach behind the man to lock the doors he stands in front of. suguru can already tell that the mood today is different — full of hunger and expectations for something less polite than evening chatter and gift exchanges. his dark eyes follow your every move across the bakery like a wolf tracking the scent of prey. 

“why don’t you come with me to the back? and if you don’t mind, could you carry a bag or two of that rice flour? it’s too heavy for me on my own?” you ask him after backing away with a glint in your eye. naughty, naughty. geto likes the fact that you’re asking him, that you need him and he can be your strong suguru. 

“sure, anything for you.” he agrees a little bit too quickly, removing his work jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt. suguru discards his tie as well — before lifting a sack of rice flower with ease. he pretends not to notice the way you ogle the bulge in his biceps as he does so.

“thanks.” you utter, leading the way to the back of the bakery. 

once the two of you arrive in the kitchens at the back, you give suguru some time to set down the sacks of flour and retreat to the many shelves of sweet treats and baked goods that you’d prepared for your shift the next day. you’re sure choso, nor his grandmother, would mind if you stole a plate of mochi for the two of you to share. they trusted you enough, but you decide to forgo telling them for now. 

“i was starting to think you weren’t coming.” you say as you set the desserts out on the metal table for him, suguru hates the guilt that he feels for leaving you for so long. “seeing you is the highlight of my week.” 

“are you sure it’s not the gifts that i give you?” he teases, rounding the table to take a piece of mochi from the plate at its middle. he practically moans at the flavours of cherry blossom and crystallised sugar bursting across the palette of his tongue. and for a moment, his mind slips to other territories — wandering what you’d taste like as well. 

“n-no! sugu!” for the first time that night, you break character, bashfully tucking your pretty face into your shoulder as if to hide it. “i, um… i genuinely like seeing you and when you come to see me. i-it makes me feel better. being around you. i feel safer and happier.” 

putting his weight onto the metal surface, suguru leans forward and cocks his head to the side in faux curiosity. your answer is just what he wanted to hear. he finally has you where he wants you,  like a sweet deer in a hunter’s trap. “is that so, darling?” you shake your head yes in affirmation. “well then, you’re awfully sweet.” geto takes to praising you, licking the traces of candy from his lips and maintaining eye contact while his hand dips into the pocket of his slacks for something. “i have a gift for you, little one.” 

“oh yeah?” youtoo, take a bite out of the treats you’ve laid out, munching on them casually while keeping suguru under your watchful eye.

it’s only then that pulls out a matching item of jewellery, this time, a matching anklet to the item that sits heavy at your neck. the silver chain is dotted with tinier, purple gems. a showcase of suguru’s appreciation for how much you’ve healed him — a nod to how much better he feels around you too. 

“you sure do love purple for me, sugu.” you joke, laughing incredulously at the expensive gift. “it’s beautiful, thank you.” you let him circle the table to take hold of your soft hips, lifting you onto the cool surface so that geto has some leverage to put the anklet on you. 

after kicking out your left foot — suguru sinks to his knees before you, and something about the way he looks up at you, with his eyebrows drawn to the centre of his forehead and his milky cheeks slightly flushed, has your heart racing and your head all dizzy. “purple is supposed to mean healing. i’ve had a tough time, being away from japan and my family…” he begins quietly, his voice is calming with lilts and drops of hunger that slips through the cracks of suguru’s caring resolve. “but you’ve made it better,” one of his large hands encircles your ankle, lifting your foot higher so that geto is easily able to remove the strap of your mary-jane shoe and replace it with the chains of your new anklet. “ah… a perfect fit.” he announces in japanese, fixing the clasp. 

the whole ordeal is intimate, inviting and you feel like you might slip under the surface of dark, dangerous waters if you’re not careful. you don’t know how to swim, but something tells you that suguru will keep you afloat. “anyways, little one…” suguru continues with his monologue, whispering his words against your talus bone at the base of your leg, where it meets your foot. “you wanting me here and needing me… it heals me.” 

once he’s checked that the anklet is secure, suguru reaches a hand upwards, and brushes a thumb over the swell of your glossy bottom lip to swipe away a smudge of powdered sugar from the mocha. you will yourself to speak, but you feel as though you can’t even breathe. “i’ve…healed you?” 

suguru stands up, towering over you now as he moves to suck the sugar from your lips off of his thumb. “of course, little one. what else do you think you’ve been doing this whole time?” his pupils dilate, obsidian black drowning out any other colour in his eyes while closes the gap between your heated bodies. your thighs instinctively jump apart to make room for him too, allowing him to loom over you even better — following the biological call of your hearts.

the world comes to a standstill when suguru’s lips finally meet yours in a sloppy yet coordinated kiss. while his movements are messy and hungry he remains gentle with you, as though you might break from too much force. the sweltering heat of his tongue swipes eagerly but not aggressively over the seam of your mouth, dying to be let in and taste the sugar that glazes your own pink muscle. his large, unusually soft hands grasp, and squeeze and pinch at your thighs, then the fat at your hips until his thumbs are tucked under your breasts, soothing circles over the point at which the fleshy mounds join up with your rib cage. 

goosebumps break out across your skin from underneath your clothes and you feed suguru a needy little squeak when he finally breaks into your mouth, his tongue lapping circles at every crevice. you sound just like her, his angelic little sister, and he treats you so gently because he would never want to hurt her. suguru has always wanted to kiss his sister, but you’ll have to do. he likes you just as much as her. 

it’s that sick and twisted desire to devour his younger sibling that fuels his next movements, along with the dulcet and darling sounds you make for him. carefully and between sticky lip locks, suguru pushes you onto your back — humming in amusement when it arches away from the cool metal of the silver counter. “s-sugu,” you whimper wetly, catching your breath while his smooches cascade down to your neck and his fingers work their way through the buttons on your uniform. your own take residence in his firm and broad set shoulders, as if to steady yourself. “i haven’t… i don’t have much experience with these things a-and they’ve not been the best—“

the dark haired  man chuckles softly, the sound sending a spark of lust down your spine and causing you to arch up into him as he cages you against the table. “i’ll be gentle,” he tells you firmly, in a tone that smooths over the doubts in your mind and helps you to relax. suguru will take care of everything. “you don’t have to worry. i want this to be all about you feeling good, okay?” you nod in reply and suguru sucks his teeth. “i want a verbal answer, little one.”

“yes, sugu…”

he places a chaste kiss to your collarbones then, a pleased hum vibrating against your temperate skin. “good girl.” 

the next few moments are a blur as suguru geto strips you down, kissing every inch of your exposed body with each article of clothing he removes from your shaky frame. all that he leaves you with are your soiled panties after reaching around the curve of your spine to unclip your bra with one hand.  it’s all so nerve wracking and invigorating all at once, you can’t help but wrap your legs around his waist and pull him in for more.

between the chaos and rustling of his own clothes coming off, suguru presses two digits to your budding clit and your world tilts on its axis — he’s hardly touching you and yet you feel so good, especially when he rolls the swollen little nub between a thumb and forefinger. your nails form crescent moons against his shoulder in response.

you’re so overwhelmed by the patterns he traces over your clit, his name, his promises to you and your body, as well as the blood rushing to it — that you hardly notice geto’s descent on your body, the hot trail of kisses he leaves between the valley of your breasts and over your soft tummy. you just about manage to feel him over the haze in your brain when his lips hit the scalloped edge of your panties, and you jolt when the tip of his tongue forcefully traces the outline of your un-used, soaked hole from over the gusset of said garment. 

the fabric darkens as your juices pool against it, mixed with the wetness of suguru’s tongue.

“will you let me pleasure you, little one?” 

it’s not like you can say no (not that you want to), especially with the way geto manoeuvres your thighs to hang over the backs of his strong shoulders as he settles between your trembling legs. while he waits for your reply, he takes your wrist into his grasp and pulls one of your silk scrunchies from it — using it to tie back his luscious black hair. 

you look down at him through your lashes with a painted expression of want and worry. 

suguru pushes the pads of his thumbs into the globes of your ass against the cold table — massaging the flesh with mischievous eyes as your pussy gushes and leaks a fresh wave of nectar right down to the puckered ring between your ass cheeks. “just tying my hair back as a precaution,” he whispers, voice lowering an octave as his face slowly nears your clenching cunt. “i’m a messy eater…”

“a-ah! sugu!”

at first, suguru delivers a single lick to your awaiting pussy, drawing a stripe with his tongue between the length of your fat and sluice folds. then, when you cry out his name he can’t help but to latch his heated mouth onto your unattended sex, chuckling at the realisation of just how good you taste. it’s a natural flavour, with a twinge of sweetness suguru could have only hoped to imagine. he’s been waiting for this moment and to have you like this for weeks — to replace his prior daydreams of fucking his baby sister with you…and now he finally has the material to do so. 

a sinful giddiness infiltrates geto’s bloodstream as he kitten licks at your pulsating mound — feeding in your arousal as it grows before inhaling deeply, nastily taking in your scent so that he can commit it to memory. “how does that feel?” he coos his words out as he hungrily nips at your sopping folds, rolling them raw between rows of perfect white teeth until you’re choking on a breath and your face scrunches adorably. “is that nice, love?” 

a wet whimper lies on your kiss-swollen lips, and your hips naturally buck up to follow the warm trace of suguru’s mouth encompassing your sex. “f-feels so good! b-better than i… could have imagined,” you struggle to get out, gargling on each syllable while your chest heaves and arches away from the chilly table — giving suguru the perfect view of your bouncing breasts and only motivating him to pleasure you more. “f-fuck!” 

if you were his baby sister, suguru isn’t so sure that you’d curse in front of him. she wouldn’t, she was too docile and sweet to utter a bad thing in his presence. but you, you’re both of those things and more — you lose yourself easily to the ecstasy in your veins; liquid pleasure spewing from your blistering hot cunt like a free-flowing river, painting suguru’s high cheekbones with your body’s riches. he feels blessed to be between your thighs, defiling the blossoming flower of your cunt with his eager mouth. 

“you’re so…you’re so pretty when you gush like this for me. i want you to give me more.” his tongue darts along the length of your weeping slit, catching what you leak before it can go to waste on the icy table beneath your hot skin. drunk on your taste, suguru forces his flexible tongue past the tightness of your fluttering entrance. “can you do that for me?” he mouths, though whatever he says is slurred as he slowly begins to tongue fuck you. 

“a-anything,” you say, breathing shallow and eyes beginning to grow teary. suguru’s tongue slips in and out of your creaming hole with rhythm, preparing you, using a pseudo sensation, for his fat cock. “anything for you! i wanna feel good for you. wanna please you!” he languidly strokes at your ribbed insides as a reward, chasing your honey nectar taste while your hips canter up and chase bud hismouth. 

suguru intends to destroy you, own you and unleash all of his darkest fantasies onto you. he’s dreamed of ruining his adoptive little sister, making her cum all over him — it just so happens that you look and sound like her, you match every single one of his dreams about her, you make them all a reality. it’s only right that he pleases you and makes you see stars for needing him and relying on him so well. 

he wonders if his sister would cry like you do, or if she would try to stave off her orgasm like you do. would she scream his name over the saliva pooling on her tongue like you do. eyes in the shade of deep, chocolate brown start to flutter shut at the sound of your desperate pleas as you writhe under suguru’s attention of your swollen pussy. your back sticks to the table and your thighs shake either side of suguru’s head, but he doesn’t relent on sucking the juices that cling to your pussy lips until all he can breathe is you. 

his tongue twists happily against your lush walls, grasping at the essence that lines them. 

“you’re doing well for me, little one, so well…” he praises you, knowing how close you’re getting. it’s in the way your body twitches with every suck to your hardened clit and the way you try to push him off of you. you need it so bad, you need him to make you cum. suguru thrusts deeper, harder and faster using his tongue — catching what dribbles from your tiny hole after it slips between your ass cheeks and pools in a puddle on the table. “i want to taste it. if you’ll cum for me, that’ll make me happy. so let me…”

suguru can’t even finish, dizzy on the taste of you like the buzz of a high. he could spend an infinite number of days between your legs. no matter how sore his knees get from kneeling between them — all he wants to do is slurp down everything that you give him, focus on making you reach pleasure of only heavenly limits in order to evade the guilt he feels. the one that causes knots to twist in geto’s stomach. 

how could he do this? 

how could he want this? 

to fuck someone so reminiscent of his little sister. 

to manipulate them into fucking him? 

suguru’s name is hot on your lips, spiralling into the husky evening air. “come on, little one. cum for me,” meanwhile, his breath on your cunt makes your hips wiggle and hole spasm — a new wave of juices staining his face. it’s scent and taste coax the man into diving back into your sopping heat, the point of his nose bumping against your pleasure nub as if peeks out from beneath its hood. 

“m-mph… m’kay,” comes your hushed whisper as you thread your fingers through the black roots of geto’s hair, keeping him pinned to your precious creamy core as you rut against his agile tongue. “f-feels funny!” you gasp and warble, filling the man’s mouth with your raw folds and liquid lust.

“hm?” geto hums lazily in acknowledgment, licking up to your clit so that he can replace his tongue with two digits. he works at your dripping hole, stretching it over them through the haze in his mind. he swoons at the thought of replacing those same digits with his cock next — they speed up with excitement, squelching and echoing throughout the room, overlapping with your high pitched breathy moans. 

with your heart rattling against your ribcage, you can hardly fight off the urge building within your lower belly — your hips are frantic as they chase after the feeling and the burning high that crackles across your neurons. geto groans wickedly, feeling your sex spasm against his soaked lips and clench down hard on his fingers. it’s not long before he feels you succumb to your first orgasm. it washes over him in heavenly waves — clearing away his guilt and desire for his little sister while simultaneously drowning you under sinful pretences.

your entire body is racked with the case of the shakes, your eyes shooting back into the dark depths of your skull while white noise fills your ears and overlays the sound of suguru lewdly slurping at your release. speaking off, clear streams of your arousal spurt from your quivering cunt…and for the first time ever, you squirt. everywhere, all over the place, making such a mess that suguru is left gargling over everything that you give him and there’s a crude splatter as your juices hit the floor. 

he doesn’t stop, however, licking you clean with his fingers continuing to curl languidly against your g-spot — over and over again. 

“sugu p-please! s’too much,” you plead in the form of a heavy sob — but only god knows that you don’t want the man to stop. 

“just one more for me?” he asks you tentatively, releasing your throbbing clit with a wet pop. suguru stands and you look up at him — noting the way his bangs stick to his cheeks from how wet you’ve gotten him. he doesn’t stop pumping his fingers in and out of you either, dragging the tips of them along your overstimulated and stretched walls. “you can do it, and if you can i’ll reward you. how does that sound, little one?” he slows his pace just enough to only have the seat of his palm salaciously grind against your clit, not wanting to hurt you. 

he wouldn’t want to hurt his adoptive sister if he ever had the chance to get her spread open like this. 

your face is stained with mascara, your brown eyes big and wobbly and your braids are askew — but still, you’re the most adorable thing he’s ever seen, next to her. your fingers threaten to snap shut around his wrist, but with his free hand he forces the wet and doughy flesh back open, and with a few more thrusts if his fingers, nice and tantalisingly slow, you’re cumming again in another cute, clear stream — dowsing suguru’s hand in another wash of your cum. 

leaning down, suguru’s lips tainted with your arousal lean down to meet your own — capturing them in a sweet kiss to help bring you back down to earth. “what’s your colour, darling? red for bad, yellow for okay and green for good. how do you feel?” 

“g-green,” you mumble, keening into his touch and craving his affection. “i feel fine, my legs won’t stop shaking. i’ve never cum like that before…” 

pride blooms like a wildflower in suguru’s chest. 

“well, i don’t intend on stopping, little one,” brushing your braids back into place, suguru carefully pulls his fingers out of your stretched hole and swiftly sucks them clean. “your pretty pussy is so tiny, must not have been used properly,” the vulgarity of his words have you arching for more from suguru, and you’re lucky that he’s not done with you yet. “don’t worry, love. i’ll fix that.” 

you’re weak in the knees when suguru manhandles you from the table onto the floor, making sure that you’re comfortable on your tummy — he even goes as far to nestle a bag of rice flour under your hips. you pretend not to notice the way his strength makes you flutter around nothing, smearing your juices onto the bakery floor.

“i’ve been holding back quite a bit,” he murmurs against your naked shoulder blades — the dark tresses of his hair tickling your skin. “so i might not last long.” you hear a belt clink before suguru kicks his slacks off and away, rewarding your patience with a kiss against your spine. “i hope it’s okay if i just give you my all.” 

from this position, it’s easy for suguru to picture his younger, adopted sister instead of you — he’s dreamed of having her present for him like this countless times, but it doesn’t compare to the way it feels having your hot body underneath him like this. your ass is so soft and pliant in his hands as he drags your hips up a little higher. another hand grasps at the hardness of his cock that’s been dripping and aching ever since geto first got his mouth on you. 

with stuttering hips, he positions himself at your needy entrance, chuckling in approval when you attempt to wiggle back on him — just as hungry for this as your lover is. both of you hiss as his veiny shaft comes into contact with your sticky folds, suguru using the remnants of your orgasms to slick himself up again and make it easier for you take all of him. you can’t see him, but the dark haired man’s cheeks are tinged pink with pure desire — his gaze turning woozy as he looks from your gaping hole to his cockhead, tapping it against your souse entrance a few times for good measure. 

fuck a condom, he thinks, if given the opportunity — he would have fucked his sister rawtoo. 

“whatever you give me, i-it’ll be enough for me, sugu,” you sniff, fisting the floor in anticipation — laying your hot, tear streaked cheek against its cool surface. “t-thank you for treating me so well.” 

“i promise,” geto heaves, words a little too rushed and eager. “i’ll make you feel so good, so fucking…h-hah—“ without warning, he thrusts all the way inside of you with his hips driving all the way forward until his pelvis is flush against the curve of your ass. geto is chubbier than you thought he would be, and just the right length — plugging you full. every vein wrapped around his shaft presses up against your most sensitive pleasure spots, and he’s weighty against your gummy unused walls. 

suguru’s breath prickles at shell of your ears as he collapses on top of you, all of his weight keeping you pinned to the cold hard floor. “can i move?” he lets out a wavering gasp, fighting the instinct to fuck down into you. your cunt ripples around him deliciously, the heat from your body making him drowsy. “you need to be fucked, little one. need someone to stretch out your tight pussy… i can do that for you. if you let me…”

he hates the part of his brain that wonders if his baby sister was this tight when gojo fucked her. 

“i want you to,” you slur gently, purposely squeezing down on the base of suguru’s cock and practically creaming around it. you wriggle back on him until he’s completely bottomed out inside of you — balls deep while you ooze against his pelvis and heavy balls. “need you to fuck me…”

that’s all it takes for your stranger turned lover to give his all to you. he drops his sweaty chest to your back, pulling his chubby cock from the snugness of your heat as his teeth take purchase in your shoulders — leaving a litter of love bites your uniform will barely cover once the night is over. suguru is possessive of his belongings, like you and his little sister — the bites are his claim on you. 

in one powerful move, you’re full to the brim with rock hard cock — deep in your guts, churning them up and spreading lust like a wildfire through your weak body. you feel dwarfed underneath him. despite being pinned to the floor, you still manage to rock your hips back against suguru and suck more of him into your cute, quivering cunt. it just about helps him set a steady stream to his meaningful thrusts.

wet slapping sounds echo throughout the back room of the bakery, accompanied by your meek mewls and gasps for air the faster suguru pounds into your warmth. fat droplets of precum smear along your soaked and ripe insides, ready to be bred by suguru. ready to be marked by him. you feel like you belong to him like a treasured pet and you don’t even mind it. your pussy blossoms for him like that of a japanese cherry blossom in the spring time — or iris flowers, shobu, in their iconic shade of purple. like the bruises he’s left on your back. 

oh, you’re just perfect for suguru. you fulfil all of his sister-fucking fantasies, even your moans sound like hers when she would get off in her room — thinking no one could hear her. he loves this, he might even love you — the way you feel wrapped around him, reaching for the stars in your eyes. it feels like you’re made for him, with the way you clamp down on his oozing mushroomed tip and squirm about underneath him.

your pussy barely lets go of geto when he draws his hips back, but every time he fucks down into him — your fluttering hole stretches to accommodate his creamy thickness. it creates the perfect pathway for the dark haired man to bully your g-spot in a way that makes you scream for more. “you’re perfect for me…fuck, you’re so perfect,” suguru intimately whispers into your skin from behind, his hands smoothing over yours as you claw at the floor to ground yourself from the overwhelming ecstasy. he thinks he understands why satoru had fucked his sister now — there’s something so satisfying about corrupting someone. taking their innocence with your dick. “should i keep you like this? on my aching cock forever?” 

“y-yes please!” you squeal, succumbing to your body’s biological will, cunt spitting droplets of arousal all over suguru. he’s barely able to pull out of you, his dick on lockdown inside of your core. there’s hardly any space between you both any more, the air vibrating with electrifying lust and the scent of sex. 

you coo and cry out for your newfound lover, your ass and the backs of your thighs burning from how hard his skin slaps against your own. you hardly care about the pain for its overlapped with ecstasy like sea water on a sandy shore. “you’re such a good…good fucking girl for me. for your big brother,” suguru loses track of his words, his mind lagging behind his mouth and his hips that relentlessly pound you into the ground. over the sound of sex you think that you’ve misheard him, but then his voice rises an octave and in volume as he continues to moan out your praises — succumbing to your gratifying and ichorous cunt latching onto the veins spiralling around his dick. “oh my precious little sister… taking me so fucking well—!”

in that moment, all of the guilt suguru has ever felt for leaving his sister, for ruining her relationship and fleeing to new york, for thinking of her while fucking you… it all comes rushing back. he stops thrusting, freezing in place above you while his cock twitches along your insides. 

“f-fuck i—“ he starts to apologise, but the cry you let out stops him. 

“nii-san,” you whine petulantly, fat tears gathering in your lash line. “d-don’t stop! please keep fucking me, fuck me harder. make me cum, make me scream, make me—!” your words are cut off by suguru’s fingers wrapping around your delicate neck from behind, giving it a gentle squeeze. he resumes his thrusts, a little harsher and more carelessly coordinated than before, once he realises that maybe you’re just as sick and twisted as him. calling him big brother while he uses you for a dirty fuck in place of his younger adopted sibling… 

you like this just as much as he does.

suguru knows you’re perfect, perhaps even more so than his little sister. he uses his grip on your throat to tug your head back while he fucks you silly, slotting his mouth against yours in a salacious and sinful kiss. “onii-san, hm?” he forces his tongue over yours, moaning into your mouth pathetically as he reverts back to his mother-tongue. “you want your onii-san to fuck you, imouto? make you cum again?”

“please, please, please onii-san! g-gotta cum f’you…g’na cum. c-close!” comes your brainless babble while you fall into a cockdrunk state. 

“you beg so pretty for your big brother, sweet little thing. i should fill you up, breed this greedy little cunt for all its worth, right?” suguru’s mind grows as foggy as yours, copious amounts of his precum pouring into you and dripping down your swollen slit. it’s a mess, everything is disgustingly messy — this situation, the fact that you’re so eagerly calling him your big brother, the fact that he’s fucking you because you remind him of his sibling. but neither of you give a shit, not when you feel so fucking good you swear you’re seeing the pearly gates. 

“g-god! please sugu, please nii-san, i need it. need you!” the slow roll of your hips contrasts with geto’s ever increasing slap of skin on skin, your mix of arousals crudely seeping down his balls and to the floor below. the point at which your bodies join starts to forth as well. 

“is that so…?” suguru hums attentively, grinning ear to ear at how you play into this immoral dynamic. it fuels the fire of lust burning through him, setting his lungs alight and ruining his chances at breathing. his thrusts become erratic, his cockhead married to your g-spot, and he finds himself growing more and more excited about the sight of his cum leaking from your ravaged hole. “you must really like it when your big brother fucks you — hm, lillith baby? do you like how deep i can get, deep in your tummy?” he continues to ramble, grabbing your ass cheeks to peel them apart — letting out a deep and wild gripe from his chest at the sight of strings of your clear arousal glueing the fleshy globes together. “love how you throw it back on me. keep coating your nii-san’s cock in your pretty juices. gush for me, make me shine with your cum.” 

you nod and do as geto says, simpering out for even more while you work yourself back on his swelling girth as it shines with milky white. you can no longer keep up with what’s happening, your brain actually lags at the way your faux big brother coos your name while your sexes sing a lewd song of pap, pap, pap. lust courses through your veins and burns at your nerve endings, you should feel disgusted with yourself but nothing makes sense. you feel like you’re high, and you don’t want to come back down. at this point, all you can do is lay down and take it, clenching around suguru’s hard cock where it counts — pulling more precum from his heavy breeder’s balls. 

“nii-san…more, ‘m right there—“ you sob, reaching back with bambi eyes that plead for another kiss. you allow suguru to fuck you at his own free will, too weak to keep up.

“right here, imouto? against this sweet spot, baby sis?” you get a little tighter every time he calls you his little sister, creaming around his base and crying out his name as if it’s a fucking prayer. “you want me to breed you that bad, baby sis? want my cum deep in your little sister cunt?” 

you beg for it through tears and suguru makes you cum again just like he promised. your third orgasm of the night renders you completely useless, a silent scream tearing in your throat while you seizes up and trap suguru deep inside of your fluttering cunt. it’s so fucking cute to him, how much you gush when you orgasm, like a rushing river that never stops flowing. it’s almost as if the flood gates have opened up or heaven has rained down on geto’s fat cock. 

that’s all he needs for his own orgasm to be triggered, he collapses on top of you from behind as he empties his balls inside of your womb with a shout of your name. “‘m sorry little one, ‘m sorry… so fucking sorry.” he says hoarsely, cock pulsing while a wave of his cream lines your pussy from the inside — he doesn’t ever let up, fucking you through it all until both of your sexes are raw and abused beyond repair. “i love you, baby sis… imouto. s-shit, i love you so much.” your hole burns by the time suguru comes down, and you swear he feels bigger now that his dick is swollen with his orgasm. 

suguru is still cumming in spurts when he pulls out of you with a hiss, painting your puffy folds white, the rest leaking out of your entrance. “im so sorry… I have no idea where that came from…” he starts to apologise tiredly. “that was…”

you remain silent for a moment, mulling over what to say next as suguru rolls off of you, and lays by your side quietly. you flip onto your back, staring up at the artificial lights hanging from the ceiling. you liked this, whatever the hell it was… even if it meant he was fucking you to fuck his unresolved feelings out for his sister. 

“amazing… yeah.” is the response that you settle on. 

“that’s…that’s not what i meant.” 

“and i know that! you don’t have to apologise,” you cut him off abruptly, keeping your voice softly. “i liked it, whatever weird kink this is, it made me feel good.” 

geto flushes hot all over, sheepishly running a hand through his sweaty black locks. “my sister… she’s not seriously my blood sister. she’s adopted and—“ he’s so sheepish and right after ruining you beyond belief that it makes you laugh in pure amusement. “a-and i like you! quite a bit. i know this was… strange… but with your permission. i’d like to keep seeing you.”

“and fucking me?” you tease, tucking yourself into the man’s side while nuzzling your face into his neck. he smells like you, he smells like sex…but you’re satisfied.

his arm loosely wraps around your waist, thumbing over any bruises he might have left there. “that too.” 

“what about the gifts?” 

“those won’t stop either.” 

finally, you sit up, looming over geto as you tuck your braids behind your ear and out of your face. cupping suguru’s jaw, you lean over him and place a somewhat upside down kiss to the man’s lips — then brush over their cherry red bruising. “then you have yourself a deal — now please help me clean up, sugu. i don’t want to get fired.” 

it’s his turn to laugh next. “i’ll just take care of all your expenses if you do.” 

you roll your eyes.

this new dynamic, this new fling…it’s unhealthy, yeah. but as long as suguru has someone like you to look out for and need him. he thinks he’ll be okay. 

getting over his sister was the key to healing. just like his purple nailed therapist had said — so focusing on you was healing him. before either of you can move to help clean up, suguru reaches up slowly and cups your neck tenderly. he brings you down to his level, his fingers wrapping around the silver chain swinging loosely from your neck before pressing a kiss to the amethyst pendant there.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[rynnthefangirl]

“I don’t get why people are so mad about the Mad Queen, Dany’s character has been building to this and it makes perfect sense for her!”

Okay, so even if we pretend for a second that Dany burning KL at the time and in the way she did made sense (it didn’t), there’s a whole other element as to why the Mad Queen arc was SO infuriating. And that is because for two seasons the entire logic of the show bends backwards until it breaks in order to get Dany to the point where they could try to justify that act.

Let’s look at some examples:

Tyrion instructs Dany to invade Casterly Rock, leaving Highgarden unprotected. It makes zero sense for a character renowned for their intelligence to propose this. CR is a defensive stronghold that offers no tactical advantage to a Conquerer, while Highgarden is one of Dany’s strongest allies with the funds to support her conquest. Dany loses House Tyrell and the Reach because of this.

Tyrion also advises Dany to send some of her most valuable men Beyond the Wall to capture a wight to convince Cersei of their existence. Again, this makes no sense for Tyrion to propose. He of all people should know that Cersei is a deranged narcissist who could never be trusted. I guess Tyrion kind of forgot his sisters central character traits. Dany loses a dragon because of this.

Dany also would not have lost Viserion if she had not arrived in time to rescue Jon and the others. But lucky for them (and unlucky for Viserion), ravens can now fly from the wall to Dragonstone in a single night.

“Dany kind of forgot about the iron fleet.” Apparently this Conquerer queen heading south for war just didn’t send out any sort of scouts, and entirely forgot about one of the like two forces that she needs to watch out for. None of her war advisors remember this either. She loses Rhaegal and Missandei because of this.

Cersei decides to behead Missandei as opposed to keeping her prisoner in the Red Keep in order to discourage Dany from just burning it down.

The Iron Fleet— which would later fail to strike down Drogon despite firing dozens of scorpions— is able to take Rhaegal down with two back to back perfect shots. Also apparently they can see Rhaegal well enough to do that, but neither Rhaegal nor Drogon nor Dany were able to see them.

Upon coming to Westeros, Dany has three dragons, a huge army of Unsullied, a huge army of Dothraki, a portion of the Iron Fleet, the full support of Highgarden with all their wealth and armies and probably much of their Bannermen, and the backing of Dorne. Dany is told that this is not enough, and she will not be able to take KL without tons of innocent bloodshed. Dany then proceeds to lose 2/3 dragons, Highgarden, Dorne, the Iron Fleet, and a huge portion of her Unsullied and Dothraki armies. In exchange, she gets an army of tired unmotivated northerners. Meanwhile Cersei obtains all of Highgardens wealth, the Golden Company, the Iron Fleet, and a massive force of scorpions. Dany proceeds to take Kings Landing and force a surrender with virtually zero civilian bloodshed.

Dany is portrayed as unreasonable and irrational for wanting to immediately attack Kings Landing with her full force. This perceived irrationality is the basis for her advisors questioning and betraying her. Dany is later proved correct in all of her courses of action when— again— she forces KL surrender quickly and cleanly and with virtually no civilian bloodshed.

Varys, a character renowned for his patience and ability to play the game and wait to strike until the opportune moment, a man who sat through Joffrey’s reign and did nothing, suddenly feels that Daenerys (who has not done anything worse than what Varys already knew her capable of when he decided to support her) is such a risk that he tries to poison her before she has even defeated Cersei for him. Again, the supposed reckless plan that Varys betrays Dany for is later proven to have been the correct plan.

Cersei faces no backlash from any of her actions. Nobody cares that she blew up the Westerosi Vatican. Nobody cares that she murdered the Queen of Westeros. Nobody cares that she helped orchestrate the fall death of Ned Stark and bears responsibility for the subsequent war and massacre of many of the remaining starks. Nobody cares that she is very very unlikely to accept Northern Independence, and very likely to hold a grudge against the north and house stark and seek to wipe them out. Cersei faces zero criticism or opposition from anyone besides Daenerys, and dethroning her is treated as an unnecessary inconvenience that nobody really cares that much about, and are only doing because Dany wants to.

These are just the examples I can think of off the top of my head. There are surely many many more.

Dany was too OP coming into season 7. As such, in order to make the plot work and reach their predetermined Mad Queen ending, the very fabric of the universe twisted and warped for the explicit purpose of taking away everything she had and loved. Dumbass plans from characters known for the intelligence, fast travel, discarding of the “action and consequence” internal logic of the show for Dany’s opposition, forgetting of basic war time strategy. Cersei’s forces are a formidable threat when Dany needs to look reckless and bad for wanting to attack Kings Landing. Cersei’s forces then proceed to not be a threat at all and collapse like a tower of cards when Dany needs to look awful and evil for burning down a city that surrendered so easily.

So yeah, even if in that moment you believe Dany would burn down Kings Landing, the fact that Dany fans had to sit there and watch as every single aspect of the show was manipulated in the most illogical way for the sole purpose of making her the villain…? Is it really in character if the fundamental logic of the universe has to change in order for it to happen?

[mouwrites]

I wish I could go on a date with Nina :( but I might make a part 2 of this if you guys want :3

Creepypasta/MH - Dates With Them

Characters: Nina the Killer, Jeff the Killer, Tim/Masky, "Ticci" Toby

Nina the Killer

I feel like you have a good mix of types of dates with Nina

Some of them are super impromptu; like she'll pop her head in your room and tell you to be ready to leave soon

And then you'll head out for ice cream or to the mall or smth :)

But she also likes to plan things sometimes, particularly romantic things

Like picnics or romantic walks at night

Or, if you're also crazy, midnight murder sprees <3

She always seems to have the perfect outfit for whatever occasion though

And, if you're dating her, so will you

She would have showered you with enough gifts (and taken you to the mall enough times) that you also have like. the PERFECT outfit for a specific occasion

So neither of you really have to worry about what to wear

But Nina still does; specifically when it comes to planned dates

She'll fret over what to wear for at least a day, having long private fashion shows in her room until she finds the perfect one

She's always super confident in whatever she wears, practically beaming when you meet up to get going :)

And she will combust if you mention her outfit; she knows she looks great, but to hear it from you is just <33

Ofc she always compliments you too!!

But for more casual dates sometimes she will stop you like "ok you are NOT leaving the house like that. come on, I'll help you pick something that actually suits your stunning beauty."

No you don't have a choice when that happens ^

Dw though, she'll pick something nice that you both like and that fits your aesthetic :3

Jeff the Killer

Dates with him are always a surprise

In many ways...

There's no way to know what he's planning or when he's planning it or if it's even planned at all

Like, sometimes you'll just be out for a walk and he'll say:

"This is a date btw."

"What?! You could've told me beforehand, I would've worn something nice..." >:/

And he just laughs, because he thinks you're still gorgeous in your hoodie and jeans :)

But another way that his dates are a surprise is because his concept of a "date" is so broad and obscure

One time he literally just took you to look at this old truck that crashed in a creek

That was it. That was the date. You walked a short distance and just looked at the truck for like 45 minutes

Jeff rarely plans his dates ahead of time

The most of a head's up you're going to get is a text saying "dinner at 8"

(you got the text at 6)

("dinner" is most definitely either McDonald's or some trashy two-star hole-in-the-wall buffet)

Needless to say, Jeff isn't very romantic in the traditional sense

But for all his weirdness and un-romantic date planning, he still loves every second he gets to spend with you

He loves that you're beautiful in whatever you're wearing, he loves that you laugh at whatever lame joke he makes...

Maybe that's why he doesn't feel the need to do something showy... you're already perfect when you're casual :)

But he's also just lazy and kind of a dirtbag

Tim/Masky

Dates with him are rare

Unless you're the one planning them; he's not going to be the one initiating them in most cases

He just doesn't know how to plan a date

And he's nervous he'll get it wrong :(

But at the same time, sometimes he just really wants to go out and do something with you

So sometimes he'll ask you out for a meal, or for a drive

Something pretty quick and casual; something easy that's hard to screw up

It'll seem impromptu, but in reality he would've been planning to ask you for days at least

You guys definitely have a few favorite diners, or some scenic routes to drive

Honestly that just makes it even easier for him; he'll just shoot you a text:

"Dino’s tonight?"

And ofc you'll say yes; you both love Dino's :) (or whatever little diner)

If and when he does do something romantic, it’s rarely as big as a whole date

Like he’ll get you flowers or smth, but it’s super rare that he’ll take you on a really romantic date

But sometimes he will :o

And he’ll dress up and act a perfect gentleman, complimenting you, getting you little gifts, holding your hand…

It’s like he’s trying to make up for all his un-romanticness in one night

And maybe he is tbh :(

“Ticci” Toby

Toby just likes spending time with you; it doesn’t really matter what you’re doing :)

As long as it’s at least vaguely interesting to him, he’s cool doing whatever

So oftentimes he’ll be the one asking you what you want to do for dates

He doesn’t really have a set “date night” for you two, but he tries to have one every now and again

It’s usually when he has an idea that he decides it’s time for a date night

(Or just when he feels like going on a date with you)

Sometimes he’ll see a cute date in a movie (or when stalking “people watching”) and decide he wants to try it with you

Especially if it looks like fun, like a paintball game or trying a crazy new restaurant

But he also likes the sappy stuff, like a home movie night or stargazing

It ends up being pretty boring for him, but the way his heart races when you hold his hand is more than enough to keep him on board :)

Toby likes to do romantic gestures, no matter what kind of date you’re on

At first it was only because “it’s what people who date do” (stuff he saw in movies)

But he found himself actually enjoying your reactions, so he made a habit of doing those kinds of things

Getting you a bouquet of your favorite flowers, kissing your hand, pulling out your chair for you…

(grinning wildly at your subtle reactions all the while)

It almost makes him seem like a gentleman

But then he’ll spend the date yapping about the most unhinged shit and you’ll be reminded that he’s. Like that

But hopefully that’s what you’re really into if you’re dating him :)

Thank you so much for reading! Take care duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

[alovesongtheywrote]

Cranberry Juice | Eddie Munson x Reader

♥ Summary:  Getting kidnapped from a grocery store wasn't exactly on your to-do list, but neither was having sex with your blood-drunk vampire boyfriend on the dead bodies of your captors, so... [Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader]

♥ Warnings:  18+, minors and ageless blogs dni. Violence, gore, kidnapping, gun related violence & violence against women, drinking blood, drinking blood in a sexual nature, biting, minor character death, derogatory terms used for the reader by someone other than eddie, unprotected sex, p in v sex, breeding kink, very brief dubcon, monster fucking, angst, fluff.

♥ A/N: holy fuck, i haven't written a fem/afab reader in years. i've also never written smut before, so this is new.

♥ Word count:  15945

♥♥♥

You would think that in the two years following the murder of Chrissy Cunningham and the supposed death of Eddie Munson, Hawkins, Indiana would have calmed down a little bit.  You would at least assume that they would put down their pitchforks and torches and give Eddie’s friends and loved ones some room to breathe- after all, Eddie’s name had been cleared of any and all crimes, and he was, as far as they knew, literally dead.

But nope!

Nope!  No!  No way!  You still couldn’t leave your house without receiving a thousand angry glares from a thousand angry hicks.  Really, you didn’t feel comfortable leaving the house alone anymore, and no one could blame you for that.  Between the threats you’d received, the shit you’d seen, and the way the town banded together to hunt down your boyfriend in 1986, you were more than justified in feeling unsafe.

This drove Eddie up the fucking wall.

You were his partner, the love of his undead life, and he couldn’t protect you from the same town that initially drove him into hiding- the town that he had died saving.  He couldn’t protect Wayne, either, or the Hellfire Club kids for that matter.  He couldn’t shield any of you, or stick by your side throughout the day- the wings and claws that Vecna had so graciously given him upon his return to the living made hiding a little more than necessary.  And hey, if those new features weren’t bad enough on their own, Hawkins still wanted Eddie’s head on a pike.  If any Hawkins citizen saw him like this, in a new and monstrous form, that would be more than enough of an excuse to murder him then and there.

In short, Eddie was helpless.  His new features, the claws and fangs which were meant to maim and kill were useless when it came to defending his loved ones.  He was entirely unable to take care of the people he loved most, and he hated it.  

Anger and resentment festered inside of him.  He worried about you whenever you left the house.  Even when you were safe with him, a dark corner of his mind still spiraled through all the horrible possibilities.  He wanted to keep you safe, to keep you unharmed and alive, and the idea that he wouldn’t be able to do that gave him a sense of dread like no other.  

And then his fears were realized.

-

It started out as a simple shopping trip.  You needed to pick up a few things, so you went out to get them.  That’s how most people go about grocery shopping.  It was normal.  Painfully average considering everything else going on in your life, and honestly, you kind of liked that.

You didn’t go out alone.  Max also needed to pick up a few things, so you brought her with you.  You were smart about it.  You both kept your guards up and your keys between your fingers.  You were safe.  Or you were until you fell for the faux sense of safety provided by the fluorescent lights and the bland music playing overhead- a sense of safety that would be brutally fucking shattered.

Before that, though, you were just looking at juice.

The grocery store shelves in front of you were filled with bottles and bottles of beverages.  For a moment, you pondered just how many forms of cranberry juice a company could make.  The answer was a lot, apparently.  

At your side, Max was fidgeting, impatiently tapping her cane against the ground.  You couldn’t blame her, you’d been staring at juice for like, five minutes.

“Hey,” her voice was quiet, “If it’s cool with you, I’m gonna go grab the-”

“Yeah, yeah,” you snapped out of your juice-induced haze, “Go for it, I’ll be here.”

Letting her go was your first mistake.

She nodded at you and left the aisle, ignoring the pointed glare served to her by a middle-aged woman who occupied the aisle with you.  As soon as Max was gone, the woman’s glare found its true target.  The killer’s girlfriend.  The Munson boy’s accomplice.  You.

Unfortunately for the woman, your attention was already back on the juice.

Apple.  Blackberry.  Blueberry.  Cranberry.  Cran-apple.  Cran-pineapple.  Cran-mango.  Cran-cherry.  Cran-pomegranate.  There really were a lot of cranberry juices.  In all seriousness, you didn’t actually care about juice that much.  It was just a nice distraction from the oncoming-

“Devil’s whore.”

Oh, yep, there it was.

You said nothing as the woman swore at you.  You tuned out her whispered rant about your audacity- the nerve you had to go out in public after dating that ‘child-murdering monster.’  You were used to this treatment.  Not everyone in Hawkins was this intense.  Some were worse, and some were better, but there were enough angry citizens kicking around for you to grow numb to the insults.  As long as they weren’t threatening your life, you couldn’t find it within yourself to care.  You just focused on the juice and let her voice fade out.

That was your second mistake.

You tuned back in to the sound of a click- the sound of a gun’s safety turning off.  Panic filled your body as you returned to your surroundings.  The woman was gone.  Where she had vanished to was a mystery, but you didn’t really care.  Not when, in her place, a man stood, aiming a gun right at your stomach.

After noting the gun, the first things you noticed were the man’s eyes- ice blue, cold, and cruel.  He wore a sweatshirt beneath a white and green varsity jacket, the hood of which he had pulled up and over his blond hair.  It was a clear attempt to provide your attacker with some anonymity- of course, that was instantly cancelled out by the print on the sleeve that read, “Hawkins High, ‘84.”  He was your age- and when you looked closer, you realized that you knew him.

Kurt Robertson.  He had been a classmate of yours, a jock who had treated “freaks” like you and Eddie rather poorly.  Clearly, he had continued his athletic pursuits given his muscular frame.  Fear pooled in your stomach as you realized that you were no match for him.  You wouldn’t have been a match for him even if he didn’t have a gun.

You put your hands up slowly, “Hi, Kurt.  It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Don’t even try it, bitch.  Come with me,” he grabbed you by your shoulder, pushing the gun into your hip.

“Uh, maybe,” you were playing with fire, “Can I ask what this is about?”

“You know full well what this is about.  That freak boyfriend of yours murdered Chrissy- he murdered Jason, too.  They were good kids, and there’s no justice for them.”

“So you decided to find some at the grocery store?”

“Shut up, bitch, I’m talking,” he slammed you into the shelving unit.  You yelped like a wounded animal.  Two bottles of cranberry juice fell to the floor, cracking open as they met the ground.  Red spilled across the tiles.

“I’m here, we’re here,” he gestured to the store’s exit.  The implication of backup made you shiver, “To do good by Jason.  And Chrissy.  Munson took their lives- we figured we’d return the favour.  Send his slut to hell for him.”

A crooked smile spread across Kurt’s face as he let you go, pulling back from the shelves.  He gestured to the glass doors again, “Now, let’s get a move on, shall we?”

“What, you’re taking me to a secondary location?  Too afraid to kill me where everyone can see it?” It was an attempt to escape- to convince this guy to let you go.  If you could get him to fuck off, you might be able to slip out the backdoor and get to Eddie.  If you got to Eddie, you would be safe.

“No,” Kurt pressed the gun back against your stomach, “I just respect this fine establishment too much to get your fucking guts all over it.”

“This is a grocery store.”

“Hey!” your head jerked to the side to see who had spoken.  Kurt did the same.  Max was standing at the end of the aisle, her groceries in one hand and her cane in the other.  She looked angry, murderous- you were proud of her for that glare alone.

“Is there a problem here?” she scowled at the man in front of you.  You felt the gun turn.  Its side pressed against you, hiding from view in the fabric of your shirt.  The barrel was aimed at Max.  Shit.

You turned back to face Kurt.  He wouldn’t look at you.  His eyes were fixed on the red-haired girl- his new target.  You had to protect her.  She’d probably be pissed at you for having that thought, but you had to protect her.

“There’s no problem,” you said, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice, “I just ran into a former classmate.”

Max looked like she didn’t believe you in the slightest, not that you could blame her for that.  Everything from Kurt’s proximity to you to the juice on the floor spelled out trouble.  You blinked.

“Actually, do you think you’re good to find your own way home?  I think I’m gonna be a while.  Just catching up, y’know?”

You blinked again- three short blinks.  Three long blinks.  Three short ones.  You hoped she noticed.

She stared at you for a minute, looking deep into your eyes before nodding.  She coughed out a quick, “Yeah, it’s fine.  See you around,” and with that, Max was gone.  You could only hope that your message had been received.

Kurt waited for a moment.  The doors opened and closed.  Max had left.  Now, it was just you, a man with a gun, and a dozen shoppers who didn’t give a shit about whether or not Eddie Munson’s whore girlfriend got shot in the middle of the juice aisle.  

“Kurt,” you tried, watching as he took in your surroundings and fixed his eyes on the door, “Chrissy was a good kid, and I’m so sorry that she’s gone.  She didn’t deserve to die, but I promise, Eddie didn’t have anything to do with it-”

He took your arm in a grip that would surely leave bruises- if you lived long enough for them to form.  You winced but continued on, trying again to free yourself diplomatically, “And Jason- Jason was extreme, you have to admit, but I’m sorry about him, too.  He did some awful things, but he wasn’t evil-”

“Yeah, you’d know a lot about evil, wouldn’t you?” Kurt sneered, pulling you out of the store and into the alleyway behind it.  A pickup truck was parked there, waiting for you.  Diplomacy had failed.  You had to try something else.

The first thing you did was grab the gun and shove it away from you.  Kurt’s arm went with it, and he stumbled slightly.  You stumbled, too, but your balance came back to you faster than his did.  You used your brief advantage to punch your assailant in the face.  Your fist connected with his jaw, sending Kurt right to the ground.

You shook out your hand and took a step away, momentarily stunned by your pain and your power.  The doors of the pickup began to open.  You ran.  You were being chased by former jocks.  You didn’t get far.

Two arms wrapped around you- one around your chest, and one around your neck.  You tilted your head down and bit as hard as you possibly could.  The guy screamed, letting go of you just as another pair of arms took hold.

You struggled, turning around in the man’s hold and scratching at his eyes.  Someone ran behind you and grabbed at your arms, trying to stop you.  You thrashed, hissing and fighting like an angry animal.  It was futile.

You were pushed to the ground and a gun was pointed at your face.  Kurt glared down at you, his eyes full of hate and his lip gushing blood.  The rest of the boys backed off for the moment, standing on the sidelines, watching their leader.

“I should kill you.  I should kill you right now you fucking bitch.  Send you to hell with your Satanic fucking boyfriend.”

“Then do it,” you barked, adrenaline and impulse speaking for you more than anything else, “Kill me.  Unless you’re scared to do it you quivering pussy-”

Kurt slammed the gun into the side of your head.  Your vision went black.  Your hearing faded to a soft buzz.  Blood dripped down the length of your face.  You didn’t feel it.  You couldn’t feel anything.  You didn’t hear the panicked whispers of the jocks, nor the quietly exclaimed, “Holy shit, dude!  You fucking killed her!” or the, “She’s not dead, just knocked out, calm the fuck down,” that followed it.

For the moment, you were out of the game.  

The boys loaded you into the truck as fast as they could.  Their arms held you down, their hold on you tight, as if your unconscious body would spring up and perform a series of badass jiu-jitsu moves on them.  That didn’t happen, but they wanted to be prepared.  

The pickup sped out of the alleyway, putting the grocery store in its rearview mirror with law-breaking speed.  If any of the jocks had bothered to look in said rearview mirror, they would have noticed a red-headed girl using the payphone that stood near the grocery store parking lot.  

“Eddie?  It’s Max.  We have a problem.”

-

You woke to the stench of rotting wood and decomposing hay.  Beneath you, a filthy concrete floor provided a cold embrace.  Small stones and various pieces of dirt and debris dug into your soft flesh.  In this position, your leg was twisted under your weight at an awkward angle.  

Damning the discomfort, you kept still.  Every part of you was tense, ready, waiting for some sign or sound of your abductors.  Nothing happened.  The only sound was the faint scurrying of mice, and the wind blowing through the trees outside.  Still hesitant, you opened your eyes.

Most of the structure around you was made of decaying wood.  Planks and beams extended across a vast room, stretching up to a high ceiling to meet with crumbling rafters.  In some places, red and white paint had been applied to cover up some of the damage, but after years of neglect, the attempted solution had faded and chipped away.

Beams of golden sunlight streamed into the barn through dirty glass windows, and through a large square hole in the wall that had once housed a door.  Far above your head, shitty old lights buzzed harshly, illuminating all of the grime that the sun couldn’t reach.  

Outside, you could see a weed-filled field running off to a line of trees in the distance.  Brambles twisted up near the barn’s entrance.  Wildflowers bloomed among nettles and thorns.  Vines tangled with the faulty wood of the walls.  Even inside the barn, little sprouts popped up through cracks in the concrete.  Dandelions puffed near rusted old farming equipment and piles of wasted hay.

This place was oddly beautiful- and clearly abandoned.  You were far from help, and from the sound of it, you were completely alone.  

Cautiously, you got to your feet.  The spot of concrete that had served as your pillow was stained red.  You didn’t want to think about that too hard.  Putting it out of your mind, you took a few shaky steps, stumbling your way toward the exit.  Your bruised body screamed in protest.  The sound of your footfalls echoed through the barn.  You kept going.  It wasn’t like you had much of a choice.

A rusty pitchfork lay against the wall a few feet from the hole in the wall.  Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have touched the thing for fear of tetanus.  Unfortunately, these were not normal circumstances.  You armed yourself quickly and continued on, inching forward until the concrete turned to gravel underfoot.  

You didn’t make it far.

The sound your movements made alerted your captors to the fact that you were awake.  You could hear something drop around the side of the barn- something heavy.  Male voices swore loudly.  The sound of curses and other exclamations rang through the field, polluting the otherwise beautiful golden hour.  

You looked around, desperately searching for a place to hide.  You found nothing.  There was no hiding place among the weeds and brambles, no space for nature to pull you in and protect you.  Your fists tightened around the pitchfork as you realized that this would come down to a fight.  

Unfortunately, you were right.  

Jocks ran out from behind the barn like ants swarming from a hill.  Someone cried out, “Skin only!  Don’t kill her yet!”

You vaguely recognized some of the faces before you- the first one was Andy, one of the jocks who had been after Eddie in ‘86.  You were able to push him back with your makeshift weapon.  The next jock, unfortunately, got much closer.  The smell of weed assaulted you, which was quickly followed by an actual assault.  A fist met your cheek, and you staggered back, keeping yourself up with the handle of the pitchfork.

The jock didn’t let up.  Another punch came your way, but you managed to step back and avoid it.  The guy kicked at you weakly, but you easily dodged that, too.  In retaliation, you raised the pitchfork and brought it down flat over the guy’s head, knocking him to the ground.  

Alas, you were still surrounded.  Five more jocks were perfectly ready for a fight, and you were quickly running out of strength and luck.  Panic and pain surged through you as another hit connected with your jaw.  A fist collided with your stomach.  You fell to your knees.  Another hand met your face.  A ring broke the skin of your lips.  Your chosen weapon fell to the ground as blow after blow fell upon you.  

You did your best to shelter yourself from the attack.  Sharp aches echoed through your limbs with every blow.  You tried to separate yourself from the moment, mentally and physically.  Curling into a ball on the ground and disassociating didn’t exactly make you feel brave or heroic, but it kept you from taking too much damage.  Still, you knew you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day- if you lasted that long.

You barely noticed when the kicks and punches stopped coming.  You only snapped out of it fully when someone grabbed your arm.  You winced.  It was the first reaction they’d gotten from you since the attack began.

“Good,” Kurt grinned, “We didn’t break you.”

You said nothing, biting back several sarcastic remarks.  None of them seemed appropriate for the situation.  Instead, you slid your tongue over your lip, collecting the blood that pooled there.  The next time Kurt opened his mouth to speak, you spit in his face.  

“You fucking bitch!” Kurt shrieked, wiping frantically at his face, “Tie her up and get her back in the barn.  We’re gonna take this slow, got it?  She doesn’t get a quick death.”

Kurt’s lackeys obeyed.  Someone bound your wrists together in front of you with duct tape.  Rough hands pulled you up from the ground and shoved you back toward the barn.  Fear began to take anger’s place as they threw you to the concrete.  Blood dripped from your lip to the floor.  You watched as it bleed between rocks and cracks below you.  How much blood would you lose tonight?

Your heart raced.  Breath escaped your battered lungs, but you couldn’t seem to pull any air in.  Kurt glared down at you, his form outlined by the light of the setting sun.  He looked at you like you were some sort of vermin he had to dispose of.  You were sure that in his eyes, that was the truth.  

The gun was in his hand.

“Remind me, Andy.  How did they find Jason’s girl again?”

“I dunno.  They didn’t even let her parents see her face.  But Patrick,” Andy knelt down in front of you and grabbed your chin with two fingers, forcing you to look at him, “I got to see Patrick.  All of his bones were shattered.  Some kind of freak ritual, I guess.”

“Well, we don’t have a freak ritual, but,” Kurt aimed the gun at your leg, “We can always improvise.  Answer me this, boys- will a bone break apart if you hit it with a bullet?”

He didn’t wait for an answer.

His finger wrapped around the trigger.  

A deafening bang echoed off the barn’s walls.

The sound didn’t come from the gun.  Something had crashed into the roof.  Dust reigned down on you and the boys as you all looked up, peering at the ceiling.  Above you, the old lights began to flicker.  The air seemed to chill by a few degrees.

The jocks staggered slightly, their eyes off of you and fixed on the ceiling.  They all jumped as the horrendous screech of tearing metal met their ears.  Whatever had landed on the roof, it was now clawing its way off.  The boys turned to face the door, gripping their weapons and putting up their fists.   

An inhuman sound split the calm twilight.  You knew it well- that unnerving, predatory growl.  You’d heard it a few times before, while running for your life in the Upside Down.  While you watched the bats tear your lover apart.  You fell back, crawling deeper into the barn.  

The lights flicked off.

When they came back on, Eddie was standing in the would-be doorway of the barn, wings spread and fangs bared.  

“Is that-?” one of the jocks whispered.

“Munson,” Andy spat.  Kurt raised his gun, aiming the barrel at its new target.

He didn’t get the chance to shoot.

Eddie attacked first.  He flew forward, seizing the face of the nearest man in his claws.  In seconds, the man’s head was nothing more than a bloody mess.  Screams filled the air as the first jock fell to the ground.  Eddie fell with him, teeth to the man’s neck as blood pooled around them, a blood-red mirror on the concrete floor.  

Your attackers stood stunned as Eddie moved on, leaving a body behind.  Garnet drops flew to the floor as Eddie tore the next attacker into tiny little pieces.  You were almost hypnotized by the way Eddie’s teeth sunk into the guy’s neck, by the way Eddie’s claws tore through his flesh.  You could practically hear the sound of blood draining from his veins.  When he pulled back, Eddie’s sweet brown eyes were blood red.

He was quick to jump at his next victim, claws and fangs tearing, and slashing, and biting until the man stopped moving.

It was only after that third man’s body was drained that your attackers shook themselves from their reverie and began to retaliate.  They’d been aching for a chance to hurt Eddie for years.  Now, they had even more of an excuse to kill him- if Eddie was a freak before, then what was he with wings and fangs?  To them, he was a monster.  He always had been, and he always would be.

They attacked.  

It wasn’t too effective, all things considered.  A fist flew at Eddie, and in response, he grabbed the offending hand, pulled the man close to him, and put his claws through the man’s chest.  You almost felt sick at the sight of it- your boyfriend’s hand, rings and all, coming through the back of a man who beat you minutes before.  

You knew Eddie was stronger now, inhumanly so, but you had never seen him use that strength like this- not on a person, at least.  You were never afraid of Eddie.  You knew that he would rather die than hurt you.  But watching what he could do to a human- it filled you with unease, and with some other emotion that you refused to name.  

That nameless emotion screamed in your ears as Eddie pulled the man towards him using the hand still in his chest.  Eddie brought his fangs to the man’s throat and drank.

The sound of wood splintering filled the air as Eddie blocked a blow from a bat with his claws.  He pulled his mouth away from his latest victim’s neck so that he could handle the weapon.   He discarded the bat quickly, throwing it clear across the barn.  He threw the wielder next, impaling him on some old farming equipment.  The dandelions that lived beneath the aged machine were showered in a gush of ruby and wine.   

Andy was next.  He came at Eddie with a crowbar, and your stomach turned as you realized that all the jocks’ weapons- the bats, the crowbars, and the gun- were meant for you.  You winced as Andy managed to land a hit, striking Eddie in the shoulder with enough strength to down a regular man.  Fortunately, Eddie was not a regular man.  He seized the crowbar and bent it, letting it fall to the floor.

“You- you killed Chrissy!  And Patrick, and Jason-!”

Eddie’s eyes bore into Andy’s, speaking untold volumes, simmering with rage.  Eddie wiped the blood from his mouth and took a step toward the jock.

“I didn’t kill any of them.  I didn’t touch any of them.  But you?  You made my girl bleed.  You’re gonna pay for that.”  

In seconds, Andy was on the ground, unconscious or dead, you couldn’t tell.  Blood dripped from his nose and mouth.  Eddie didn’t bother drinking from him.

For a moment, then, the world fell silent.  Eddie’s eyes met yours across the barn, across the sea of blood that he had spilled to protect you.  Despite the gore, despite the blood that stained Eddie’s hands and the space under his nails, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him.  He was here.  You were safe now.

But thinking that was your third mistake.

Eddie smiled back, and as he did, another ear-piercing bang echoed through the barn.  There was nothing on the roof.  There was nothing clawing down to the barn.  There was nothing but you and Eddie, Kurt and his gun.

Eddie brought his hand to his side.  When he moved it away, his skin was stained with both his blood and the blood of those he’d slain.  You screamed.  Eddie fell to his knees.  Kurt took aim again.  He levelled the gun at Eddie’s head.

You leapt at Kurt, using your bound fists as a weapon.  You caught the man by surprise, knocking him right to the ground.  The gun slid across the floor, away from both of you.  Kurt quickly took the advantage, rolling over and pinning your hips to the ground with his.  He raised his fist and brought it down on your face, once, then twice.

He didn’t land a third punch.  Eddie tackled him off of you, hurling Kurt’s body away from yours.  He stayed in front of you, protecting you from Kurt, blocking him from view.  He was your shield, keeping you safe and out of the other man’s reach.  Eddie snarled like an animal- a predator.  It was a warning to Kurt.  A message telling him, on no uncertain terms, to stay put.

Kurt did no such thing.  He jumped at Eddie.  Thick fingers dug deep into the bloody mark on Eddie’s side.  He cried out in agony- the sound was something akin to a roar.

“You’re a monster,” Kurt yelled, his hands now covered in the dark cranberry shades of Eddie’s blood,  “You’re a FUCKING MONSTER!”

Eddie stumbled backwards, a pained gasp leaving his lips.  Your attacker showed no mercy.  He advanced, landing a hit on Eddie’s jaw.  Eddie fell to his knees.

“I’ve been waiting to do this for a long time,” Kurt reached for the gun.  He couldn’t find it.

Another shot rang out.  

The sound echoed around the barn.

Blood spilled out from the brand-new bullet wound in Kurt’s chest.  He fell to the ground with a dull thud.  His blood pooled beneath him, like cranberry juice on the floor of a grocery store.  Another blood-red mirror to reflect another lifeless corpse.  Another red stain on the concrete.

You stood behind him, gun held tightly in your bound hands.

Silence followed.  You could hear Eddie’s panting, and the sound of your heartbeat rushing in your ears.  The busted farm lights buzzed overhead.  Outside, in the twilight, cicadas sang, serenading you both.  Each breath you took was tainted by the iron scent of blood.  A chill danced up your skin.  The barn was still cold- so fucking cold.

Eddie was struggling.  New blood coursed through his system, making every inch of him feel warm.  Something beneath his skin started to itch.  He wanted to move.  He wanted to hunt.  He wanted you.  He wanted to see you spread out before him, breathless and quivering, completely drunk on his cock.  He wanted the taste of your blood to stain his tongue.  He could feel an unending pulsation spread through him, driving him forward, almost controlling him in a way. His eyes met yours for just a moment before he forced himself to look away.  A growl left his lips.

Across the room, you watched Eddie’s silent crisis, completely unaware of the feral desires harboured behind his big doe eyes.  His claws curled at the concrete.  You could hear them scratching against it- almost carving through it entirely.  His breath seemed to come faster and faster, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every second that passed.  You panicked, slightly, taking a small step towards him as your fear for his safety overtook your brain.

You lowered the gun.  

“Eddie?” You called out, shattering the quiet with your desperation.  Your voice was weak, shaking.  You sounded broken.

In an instant, Eddie was on his knees before you.  His cold clawed hands ran up your thighs and over your hips, slender fingers checking for hidden injuries, leaving goosebumps in their wake.   His movements were gentle, though they edged on desperate, almost animalistic.  Your heart twinged with guilt as sparks flew from each place he touched.  Despite the situation, you wanted more of this- more of him.

You got just that when his lips joined his hands.  He painted each part of you with kisses, brushing his mouth over your knees, your thighs, your hips.  He paused over the faint purple of a forming bruise on your leg, his touch hovering over it slightly as passionate concern tore a growl from deep within his chest.  You could feel his breath against your skin, hard and fast, nothing short of panicked.  His fear for you melted your heart.  You whispered his name.  It came out as a plea- a blasphemous prayer in a God-fearing town.

“I’m here,” he replied, his voice low, “I’m right here, sweetheart.  I’ve got you.  Are you alright?”

You nodded, trying to breathe again as you adjusted to the safety of his presence.  His hands slid up your body as he leaned in, pressing his lips and then his teeth against the soft skin of your thigh.  He bit down, enough to mark you but not enough to make you bleed, “I’m not gonna let anyone hurt you.  I promise.”

You whimpered, taking his chin between your fingers, urging him to meet your eyes.  His face was pale, and his normally messy hair was wild and slightly damp from sweat.  Blood spilled from his bottom lip.  You couldn’t tell if it was his.  Gently, you brushed the blood away with your thumb.  He leaned into your touch, shutting his eyes for a moment, letting himself be there with you.  When he opened his eyes again, there was something dark contained in the sweet brown of his irises- a grim determination.

“Baby,” he groaned, raising a hand to your wrists, “I’m gonna untie you, and then-” he paused, taking a deep breath.

“And then?”

“And then I need you to run.”

“What?  Why?  What’s wrong-?” a fresh wave of panic shot through you at Eddie’s warning.

Eddie paused for a moment.  When he spoke again, he almost sounded afraid, “It’s nothing.  Nothing’s wrong, sweetheart.  I just- I need you to run from me.”

“Eddie, what do you mean?”

He didn’t answer.

“Eddie- Eddie, please-”

He dug his fingers into your thighs, pulling you down and knocking you onto your back.  A small cry escaped you.  Your heart began to pound in your chest as one of his massive hands curled in the dust beside you.  In the time it took to blink, he was leaning over you, caging you in with his body.  One of his legs found its home between yours.  The way he stared down at you was a new kind of desperate- he looked hungry.  Empty.  Starving.

“I’ve had too much blood tonight, baby,” he leaned in, nipping at your throat, all teeth, no fangs.  He made a point not to bite, “And it did something to me.”

“S-something?”

He slipped his hands into yours, pinning your arms above your head by your still-bound wrists.  He pulled back to look at you, ravenous devotion clouding his eyes, “Something, baby.  I don’t know what, but I-”

He cut himself off, looking away from your face and shutting his eyes tightly as if he could somehow fend off what he was feeling by pretending to be somewhere else.  His grip on you tightened, and you fought off the urge to whimper.  Again, you whispered his name.

“I want to taste you,” Eddie sounded horrified at his own words, but he didn’t stop, “I wanna feel you succumb beneath my hands.  I want to feel your heart race for me, but I can’t tell whether it’s your blood I want on my tongue, or you.   And I- I can’t hurt you, so I need you to run, okay?”

His eyes were still closed.  He still refused to look at you.  He seemed so deeply ashamed- and yet, heat pooled inside you, flowing down to your core.  You drew in a breath, your chest rising sharply.  Blood rushed to your cheeks, heating your face until everything beneath your skin felt like fire.  Your eyes widened.  Your thighs shook slightly.  Any sense of self-preservation you had was throwing itself out the window in the wake of the fire that Eddie had unknowingly set inside of you- a fire that you had no intention of putting out.

Eddie’s eyebrows furrowed at your physical response.  He leaned down, lips brushing against your ear, “Are you afraid?”

“Afraid?  Of you?” your voice shook, and your body trembled beneath him, but a small smile took over your features at the thought, “Never.”

Eddie pressed his forehead against your shoulder.  A small grin crossed his features, though there was no joy in it.  There was something tragic in every movement he made.  A desperate longing drove every action- a want for something he could not have.

“Goddamnit, I love you,” he whispered.  His words were almost a whine, “But I need you to get out of here, okay?  I need you to get somewhere safe, somewhere away from me, and I need you to stay there.”

He pressed his lips back to your neck, sucking your skin in between his teeth with enough pressure to bruise, but not to break.  His claws bit into the tape, beginning to tear it.

“Eddie-” you spoke fast, panicking at the thought of leaving him like this, “Eddie, I’m not going anywhere.  Not when you’re hurt.  Look, I know you’re afraid to hurt me, and I know that you think you’re a monster, but you’re not,” you flushed as your voice broke, “You’re not a monster, Eds.  You- you make me feel safe.  I want to stay.”

He stopped tearing at the tape.

“Eddie,” you sounded more sure, “I’m here.  I’m staying, and you won’t hurt me, you won’t lose control-”

“You don’t know that,” he hissed, his voice filled with so much self-loathing that the sound of it broke your heart.

“But I do.  Eddie, everything you did tonight, you did to save me.  To protect me.  You aren’t gonna hurt me.  You’re not-”

His hand was on your throat.  He didn’t squeeze.  There was no pressure, but his claws pricked in against your fragile skin.  You should have been afraid of him, or at the very least you should have feared for your life.  Eddie was dangerous.  You knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but you’d just witnessed him murder several people with the claws that were now against your throat.  But in fear’s place, that deep longing still burned inside of you.   

”Baby,” Eddie warned, “I need you to understand.  There is so very little inside of me that wants to be nice, and there is so much of me that wants to-”

A sharp sting spread out from your neck as his claws drew the tiniest drops of blood.  He leaned closer to you, to your neck, “I don’t want to show mercy or kindness.  I want to fuck you until my cum is spilling out of you, until you can’t move, and then I wanna keep going.  I want to use you until you know that that pretty little slit between your legs belongs to me.  I want to claim you.  To own you.  To ruin you for everyone else.  I want you to bleed for me, and that is terrifying.”

He paused, releasing your throat from his hold and bringing his lips to your neck.  He lapped at the drops of blood that spilled from the pinprick-like wounds he’d made.  The second his tongue was on you, he took his other hand off your wrists and moved his touch down your body.  He stopped at the hem of your shirt, his fingers biting into the material, almost tearing it like they had torn your skin just moments before.

“Sweet girl, I wanna fuck you until it hurts- fuck you while we’re surrounded by the bodies of our enemies- and then I want to drain you.  I am a monster.  And I want you the way a monster would.  Do you understand?”

Again, you should have been afraid.  You should’ve let him free your wrists, and then you should have run away.  You should have screamed.  

Instead, you moaned.  

You couldn’t help it.  It just sort of slipped out of you- his words, the intensity of his gaze, the sweet sting at your neck- it all poured gasoline on the already raging fire burning inside your core.  Your legs fell apart for him, thighs spreading wide as arousal pooled between them.  Eddie looked a little surprised.

“Did you- did you just fucking moan?”

You grumbled, desperate to hide your face in shame.  Your humiliation doubled when you realized that with Eddie’s heightened senses, he could probably tell that you wanted him.  He could undoubtedly hear the racing of your heart and smell the want between your legs.

“You fucking heard me,” you sighed, looking away in defeat, “But you- you can’t just say shit like that.  You have to know that I want you.”

“You want me?  To what, to kill you?  Because-”

You cut him off, sighing again at your boyfriend’s dramatics, “Oh my god, Eddie, I  want you inside of me.”

He froze for a second, stunned into silence.  You took that as a cue to carry on,  “I want you to fuck me. To claim me.  I want you to use me, to ruin me, whatever, I just want to be yours.”

Eddie remained quiet, though his features had softened slightly.  You turned back to face him, shoving your shame out of your mind.  You sat up in his hold, letting him wrap his arms around your waist as you encircled your still-bound arms around his neck.  His eyes were still wide with shock, but there was an undeniable sense of adoration within them.  In turn, Eddie saw no fear in your gaze- just determination.  And arousal.  

“I want you to take me,” you begged, twisting your fingers in his hair, “Right here, and right now, and if you have to do that ‘like a monster,’ then do it.  I don’t care.  I just want you.”

Another growl ripped itself from Eddie’s throat as he pushed you back to the ground, keeping your arms around him, “Do you understand what you’re getting yourself into?”

You nodded, leaning up and pressing your lips to his in a quick and surprisingly chaste kiss.  He smiled against your skin- a genuine smile, this time.  You’d convinced him.  He sighed, reaching up to gently cup your face.  He traced over your cheek as he spoke, “Use your words for me, sweet girl.”

You turned your head to press a kiss to his palm, “I know.  Do you understand that I don’t care what I’m getting myself into?”

He raised an eyebrow.  You continued, a devious smirk on your face.

“You could do whatever you want to me because I want this.  I want you.  And, hey if you don’t fuck me at this point, maybe I’ll do it myself and make you watch.”

On the last word, you parted your lips and bit Eddie’s hand.  He choked.  A blush covered his face, painting his features pink up to the tips of his ears.  You smiled, satisfaction with your work sinking in as you leaned up to press a kiss to Eddie’s cheek.  His skin was warm, far warmer than the palm he had on your face just moments before.

Eddie shook his head, snapping out of his flustered state.  His eyes darkened as want crept back into his gaze.  He took your arms from around his neck, pressing a kiss to your hands before he pressed them into the ground above your head.  You were pinned.    

“Even now, you’re such a fuckin’ brat,”  Eddie purred, “Y’know, it might be a little tough for you to get yourself off seeing as you’re, y’know, at my mercy, but I’d like to see you try.  I can’t complain about a show like that.”

You gave a defiant wiggle, stretching your hands as much as you could with your wrists still pinned and bound, “I know.  That’s why I-”

A moan swallowed your words as he pressed a kiss to the column of your throat.  The sound heightened in pitch, becoming a cry as his teeth bit into your soft flesh.  Eddie smiled against your neck as he released his hold on your wrists.  His hands moved down your body, his actions slow, fingers weighed down by intent.  His touch lingered by your breasts for a second, giving your tits a harsh squeeze before he reached further.  A sharp gasp left you as you felt his cold digits press against the bare skin beneath the hem of your shirt.   

His grip tightened on the fabric, claws piercing through it before he tore it from you entirely, leaving your upper body exposed to the chill of the barn.  Goosebumps rose on your skin.  Beneath your bra, your nipples pebbled from both the cold and your arousal.  Eddie made short work of that garment, too, not bothering with the clasp.  In less than a second, your bra was in pieces on the floor beside your poor, poor shirt.  

Eddie paused, taking in the sight of your chest.  His hands slipped up and over your waist, stopping just beneath your breasts, “Holy shit,” his voice was rough, gravely- and it had you arching up into his hold, “You’re so fucking beautiful.  So fucking perfect.”

He leaned in, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples, nipping at your flesh ever so slightly.  His fangs threatened to pierce your skin, and you knew you wouldn’t mind if they did.  You meant what you said.  Eddie could have his way with you however he liked.  He could cut you, bleed you, break you, and you would let him.  You would lie there for him and just let him take everything he wanted.  (Of course, you knew he wouldn’t.  He loved you far too much to ever cause you real harm.)

You let out a whine, running your hands into Eddie’s hair.  It was a little difficult- your wrists were still bound- but you did your best.  He moaned, lips still against your skin, and you found yourself writhing at the sensation.  Your body begged for more, for him to do more than touch and bite- you wanted to be fucked.

“Eddie, please- please,” the attempt was sweet, but your pleas went ignored.  Eddie pulled his mouth away from your nipple, moving just slightly to mark up the rest of your chest.  You tilted your head back, panting as his hands descended to the hem of your shorts, squeezing and scratching your sides as he went.

“Eds, please-”

“That’s it, good girl,” Eddie purred, teeth still against your chest, “Beg for me.”

You whined, bucking your hips up, trying to get some friction.  Eddie laughed a little as you tried desperately to squeeze your thighs together.  The leg he kept between yours prevented it, and you groaned, tugging on his hair in retaliation.

Eddie moaned, leaning back until you could see his eyes shut in pleasure, “So pretty.  And such a fucking brat-”

He sunk his fangs deep into your chest.  You cried out, digging your nails into his scalp.  You keened weakly as he drank from you.  He didn’t take much- he was already enduring what could be considered a blood overdose- but he did take enough to shut you up, to make you hurt.

When he pulled away, you were a mewling mess beneath him.  Your whines only got louder when he dragged his tongue over the bite wound.  A sharp grin exposed his fangs, now stained with your blood.  He leaned in, kissing you deeply, sliding his tongue passed your lips.  You could taste the copper tang of your life in his mouth.  

He pulled away, breathless, and in seconds he was back on your body, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your arm, biting at your wrist and drawing blood before he moved back to your chest.  He pulled your other nipple between his teeth, nipping and biting, making you whine.  You moved your body against the thigh he kept between your legs, grinding on it.  You were desperate and Eddie knew it.

He kissed down your stomach, biting at your hip as his grip tightened on the fabric of your shorts.  You yelped at the sting of his teeth, the sharp piercing of his fangs in your flesh.  Eddie’s tongue laved over your hip, lapping up the blood that dripped down your side.  He tore your shorts to pieces before the blood could stain them, ripping your panties off with them.

A loud gasp escaped you, and you let out a whine as the cold barn air met with your dripping cunt.  Eddie’s smile was almost shark-like.  Lots of teeth.

“So pretty,” Eddie whispered, “And so wet for me, baby.”

He pressed a kiss to the new bite mark hip before he continued, “Y’know, watching you fuck yourself for me- I’d only last so long before I just took you for myself.”

Two fingers moved up your slit, gathering your arousal before meeting with your clit.  His skin was rough, callused from fighting and from his guitar.  His touch was electric, sending shockwaves through your spine.  You couldn’t hold back your moan, nor could you control your hips as they bucked up into his hand.

“S-so,” you tried to speak as his fingers moved in tight circles over your sensitive nub, “You’d still fuck me, then?”

“I’d clean your fingers off first, but yes.”

“Oh, good.  So either way, I get what I want.”

He paused his ministrations and pulled his fingers away entirely, digging them into your sides.  You made a noise of protest, but Eddie remained still.  For a second, he just stared at you, half squinting.  In the time it took to blink, his teeth were on your chest again.  He didn’t break the skin, but he got so dangerously close to it that you couldn’t help but shiver as want dripped down your thighs.

Eddie’s grip tightened on you, and you wondered what the bruises his ring-clad fingers left on your hips would look like later on.  An especially sharp bite pulled you back to the present.  You mewled, whining as Eddie nipped at the soft skin over your heart.  You could almost feel your blood pumping faster through your veins, sending that same fire through each one of your nerves.

Slowly, though, Eddie’s fangs distanced themselves from you.  It was just his lips on your skin.  The pressure was still bruising to be sure, but something had changed.

“I’ll give you whatever you want.  Whatever,” you could feel Eddie speaking against you, his breath warm on your chest, “Whatever you want, just stay with me.”

A few short moments ago, he’d been begging you to run away from him.  Now, he wanted you to stay.  A quick kiss to your bloodied temple told you why.

‘I will,” you pulled his forehead to yours, locking eyes with him, “I promise I will.”

You ran your fingers through his hair, wrapping your arms around his neck as your nails gently scratched at his scalp.  He melted into your touch before leaning in, pressing his soft lips against yours.  The kiss was so gentle, so different from the harsh bites and scratches he’d delivered so far.  Your body overflowed with want, a broken fountain pouring desire onto the floor.

“You,” you muttered against him, “Are everything I want.”

He looked down at you for a second, eyes wide and wanting.  You leaned up, capturing his lips with yours.  One of his hands came up, cupping your face gently, holding you like you were something precious.  Your lips fit against his perfectly.  The fire inside you was threatening to take down the goddamn barn.  

You paused.  Wrapping a strand of Eddie’s hair around your fingers, you gave a slight tug.  You met his gaze with a small smile, removing your arms from around his neck and bringing them in front of you.

“Also, I would like to be untied, please.”

He laughed and did as you asked, freeing you with a swipe of his claw.  Instantly, your hands were on his face, your fingers running over his cheekbones, sweeping under his eyes.  With your new freedom, you were able to run your hands up and through his hair properly.  Above you, Eddie seemed to purr.

Eddie lowered himself, kissing and biting down your breasts and stomach, leaving bruises as he went.  His movements were the same as before, but there was a new passion to them.  You brushed your fingers over his shoulders, scratching at him slightly.  He gripped onto the soft skin of your inner thighs, threatening to tear into it.  You arched your hips up towards him.  He grabbed them, grip tight and claws digging in.  You cried out quietly as he pushed them back to the ground.  Your back stung slightly, but the pain was quickly put out of your mind.

“Stay put for me, will you, sweetheart?”

You barely had a moment to register his words.  His lips met with your heat, and you cried out at the sensation.  His tongue moved up and down, teasing your entrance before his lips closed around your clit.  You couldn't keep your thighs from closing around his head when you felt the harsh edges of his teeth.  He didn’t seem to mind.  More than that, he moaned against you.  You had to fight to keep still beneath him.

Eddie kissed and bit you, eating you out like a man starved, like an animal that hadn’t been fed in an eternity or longer.  The pleasure he brought you was almost violent in nature.  You let out a string of incomprehensible words, moaning and whimpering as he drank your arousal.  

“You taste so good, baby,” he pressed his lips to your clit, “So sweet.  You’re perfect.”

One of his hands slid back up your body, leaving goosebumps behind.  He stopped between your breasts, strong fingers pressed against your sternum ever so slightly, holding you still.  Over the next few moments, as his teeth and tongue teased you relentlessly, dragging you to the edge at a rapid pace, your hand slipped into his.  His claws bit into your skin.  Your nails bit into his.

“Fuck- fuck, Eddie-”

“Gettin’ close, sweetheart?  Gonna cum for me?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but your words fell to nothing as you cried out his name, shaking as you came for him.  Your voice echoed off the walls, and Eddie didn’t think he’d ever heard a sweeter sound.  He could feel your heart racing under his hand, your pulse racing through your wrist.  The way your fingers squeezed around his- like you wanted him, like you needed him- made him feel weak.  

It took you a minute to come back to earth.  You could barely hear Eddie shrugging off his shirt and jacket over the sound of your own panting.  The metallic clink of his belt buckle meeting the floor as he removed it got your attention.

You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him.  Your eyes traced up his slender waist, over scarred and tattooed skin.  His wings cast sharp shadows over his body.  He freed his cock from his pants, and you tried to keep yourself from drooling as it sprang up against his stomach.

Eddie had always been gifted.  He had always been big, thick- the sight of him was always enough to make your mouth water.  Even before the Upside Down had so kindly bestowed him with new shit, you thought he was perfect.  But after?  

You weren’t sure why Vecna had decided to give your boyfriend’s cock ridges and a few extra inches, but you weren’t about to look a gift dick in the mouth.  You would never get used to the sight- it would always make you shiver with want, make you drip with need.  Perhaps a rational person would be intimidated by the sheer size of him, by the ridges that now covered his length, but you?  Never.  You didn’t care about anything.  You didn’t fear anything.  You just wanted him.

Your eyes caught his- honey shining in the twilight, warm, wanting, and slightly hesitant.  His pupils were blown out, dark voids drinking in the sight of you.  He wanted to give you a moment to catch your breath.  He wanted to take a second to kiss you and to hold you close.  Eddie wanted to be gentle, but something deep inside him- specifically all the blood he’d drained from you and your attackers- demanded that he get his cock inside you as fast as he fucking could.  

“Baby, are you- are you sure you want this?  I’m not- I’m not gonna be nice.”

“I don’t care, I don’t-” you sat up, grabbing Eddie’s shoulders and pulling him down on top of you, “I want you, Eds.  I don’t care about anything else.”

“Okay.  Okay, just- promise me you’ll stop me.  If I hurt you, or if it’s too much, promise you’ll stop me.”

“I will,” you could barely hear yourself over the pounding of your heart, “Whatever you need, I promise.”

He took a deep breath before taking his cock in his hand, stroking it twice.  He lined himself up with your entrance, pressing against you ever so slightly.  He kissed up your jaw, pressing his lips against your ear before he whispered, “I love you.  And I’m sorry.”

In one swift movement, he was inside you, buried to the hilt.  You were wet and ready for him, but the sudden stretch- the sudden ache of his length pressing against your walls was still a lot for your already sore body to take.  Tears sprang to your eyes.  A scream tore itself from your throat before you could block it, mingling in the air with the sound of Eddie’s moans.

You could see the guilt in his eyes, but he didn’t slow his pace.  His thrusts were fast and deep, almost violent in their intensity.  The drag of his cock inside your needy cunt- the feeling of his veins and ridges against your walls- had your eyes rolling back, had you moaning like some mindless slut.  

Eddie wasn’t doing much better.  He quickly lost himself in the feeling of your body writhing under his, squeezing his dick every time moved.  He brushed against a spot inside you that made you see stars.  Your muscles clenched as his cock brushed it over and over again.  Pain and pleasure shot through you, sparking through your veins and making you dig your nails into his back.  He barely felt it.

Eddie took your hips into his hands, his grip bruising, his claws digging in.  You could feel your blood pooling beneath his claws, staining his nails red.  His lips were against your chest again, his teeth biting and scratching your skin.  You barely noticed.  You were too focused on him, on his cock forcing its way deeper and deeper inside, finding places that only he could reach.  

“Still with me, sweetheart?” His voice was raspy, rough around the edges as he tried to catch breath that he didn’t technically need.

“Still with you,” your voice was just as breathless as his, “Don’t stop.”

He didn’t.  The sound of his hips slamming into yours cut through the silence of the night.  Your fingers moved over Eddie’s back, scratching white lines into his skin.  Your hands danced over the bones and flesh of his wings, darting over every sensitive spot.  You knew his body well, and in seconds he was melting into you.  Maybe it was a dirty move- you pulling out all of the stops on him- but you were sure he didn’t mind if his moans were anything to go by.  His cock twitched inside your walls, and you moaned at the sensation.  You were weak and wanting, and he was much the same.

“That’s it, baby,” he purred, “That’s my girl.  So fucking good for me, so tight.”

His words slurred together, morphing into a low growl as he fucked into you.  The smell of sex filled the barn, overtaking the stench of blood and decay.  The barn itself seemed to fade further and further from view with every stroke, leaving only Eddie behind.  For the moment, it was just the two of you.  There were no threats to your life, no disgusted old ladies in grocery stores, and no jocks that wanted you dead.  It was just you and the boy you loved.

One of his hands left your hip, moving back downwards to press his fingers against your clit.  You could feel him trying to set a pace while also trying to keep his claws from scratching your delicate skin.  As his fingers traced those familiar tight circles, you spiralled under him, walls clenching down around him as you drowned in the feeling of his skin on yours.

You could faintly hear him whispering filthy things in your ear- descriptions of all the depraved things he would do to you spoken over the deafening roar of your beating heart and the sound of skin on skin.  Between words, his lips pressed kisses to every part of you that he could reach.  Tears rolled down your cheeks as you neared overstimulation.  Eddie kissed them away.

Mindlessly, one of your hands slipped away from his wings and over his side.  Your fingers brushed something wet, a gouge in Eddie’s skin.  The bullet wound.  Immediately he flinched, clenching his jaw tightly to keep from crying out.  You pulled back with near-inhuman speed, but the damage had been done.  In your panic, you didn’t notice Eddie’s pained gasp turning into a laugh.  You didn’t feel his cock pulsing inside you.  As apologies spilled from your mouth, he took your now-bloodied hand in his free one.

“Damn,” he spoke over you, his voice rough and low, “I guess I deserved that, huh?”

You stared up at him, stunned into silence.  Your face burned under his gaze.  Even if you knew how to respond to that, you didn’t get the chance.  Eddie brought your fingers to and past his lips, stealing your breath from your lungs in the process.  His tongue moved around your fingers with a certain grace as he licked the cranberry colour of his blood off of your skin.  The sight of it- of his lips around your fingers, drawing you in- was enough to take you to the edge.  A little added pressure on your clit was enough to send you over, into a white-hot abyss.

You cried out as your walls clenched down around him.  Tears stained your cheeks as your orgasm overtook you.  Eddie pulled back, groaning slightly.  Transparent strings connected his lips to your now damp fingers.  A devilish grin overtook his features, “You liked that, huh?  You came hard for me, sweet thing.”

You let out an embarrassingly loud whine in agreement, your body shaking as it came down from its high.  Eddie let out a groan that matched your volume as he moved his hips against yours at a harsh and unforgiving pace.  

He panted, “I’m- I’m gonna need you to use your words, baby.  Need you to- fuck- need you to tell me.  You can do that for me, right?”

You let out another whimper before you let out a broken confession, “I- I liked that,” he leaned in to kiss you, but you cut him off again, “But you didn’t deserve it.  You don’t deserve to be hurt- unless y’know, it’s kinky.”

Eddie froze for a second.  Your words had caught him off guard.  As he stilled inside you, his smile changed.  Everything about him became less devilish and more genuine.  He broke eye contact.  You could just see a pink flush spread over the pale skin of his neck and cheeks as he buried his face in your shoulder.  When he spoke again, his words were muffled by your flesh against his mouth.

“You’re too good to me.”

His thrusts picked back up again, the same as they were before.  He slowly placed your hand back where he found it, “Far too good.”

A sharp sting spread through your body as his teeth pierced your flesh.  A fresh round of tears pooled in your eyes at the new ache.  Blood dripped down your shoulder and over your chest, painting red lines down your tits.  Ruby-red droplets jumped slightly with each snap of his hips.  You felt him twitch at the sight of it.  His grip tightened, and he made a sound somewhere between a growl and a purr.

“You’re- fuck,” his voice edged on wicked, desperation seeping in as he reached up to wipe your tears away, “You’re mine.  I’m gonna make sure everyone knows who you belong to.  Gonna make sure they know- make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

“Please, Eds.  I want you- I want you to claim me.  Want you to show them that I’m just your slut-”

Eddie felt a twinge in his chest, guilt taking arousal’s usual place.  Degradation was usually fun to some degree, but he knew what people in this town called you.  He knew what they thought you were and he knew the danger it put you in; and with the events that had led you here, his fear was raw.  Worry burned through his head, turning brain cells into exposed wires.  His lips quickly pressed his lips to yours bringing your pleas to a brief halt.   When he pulled away, he whispered, “You know you’re more than that, right?”

“I know,” you leaned up to kiss him, recognizing the emotion in his eyes, “A thing can be two things.  I’m a person, and I’m yours, body and soul.  Just yours.”

He shut his eyes, chasing down your lips and kissing you breathless.  It was sweet, not gentle, but kind- and you wanted to change that.  You wrapped your teeth over his lower lip and bit down.  You didn’t draw blood.  You weren’t sure that you could, but you sure as hell tried.  Eddie growled, but before he could say anything, you were whispering into him again.

“You’re mine, too.  Remember that.”

The smile that crossed his face was blinding.  Desire consumed him again as his hips moved against yours.  His thrusts came faster, deeper, and impossibly harder.  His eyes clouded over with lust, and you were pretty sure that if you had a mirror, you would see the same thing reflected in your own face.  The want.  The need.  Your body melted beneath Eddie’s as he fucked into you the way he said he would- like a fucking animal.

Your body craved his- you wanted him to keep his word, to take you, claim you, protect you.  You wondered, briefly, what it said about you- that you wanted your partner to commit acts of violence in your name.  You brushed those thoughts away as a familiar tension began to build in your core.

As your edge grew nearer, Eddie could feel his monstrous instincts overtake him.  He knew that his grip on your body was just a bit too firm, that he was leaving dark bruises and deep bite marks all over you.  If he wasn’t careful, he would hurt you, but careful seemed to be the last thing you wanted.  You kept begging him for more, arching your body into his, digging your nails into him.  Soft, depraved pleas escaped your lips, morphing into cries as you came undone beneath him.

Eddie wasn’t sure what happened next.  He blinked, eyes falling shut, and when he opened them, he was using your body with a level of violence he had always tried to keep you from.  

A broken scream ripped its way out of your throat as the head of Eddie’s cock rammed against your cervix with bruising force.  A blinding agony spread through you, crawling through your nerves and making you gasp for air.  You could barely feel Eddie’s claws digging into your sides, barely feel it as he thrust back into you.  Your thighs slammed shut around his hips.  A whimper escaped your lips as your nails scratched down his back, desperately searching for purchase.  

Eddie paused for a split second, looking down at you with wide, panicked eyes.  He didn’t stop.  He couldn’t stop.  He hated himself for it.  You took a deep breath as he kept moving, as he kept thrusting deep within your walls.  You tried to relax, to let the pain fade.  You failed.  You felt the head of his cock hit your cervix a second time, and you bit down on your lip, drawing blood.  Tears streamed down your cheeks as you held back a scream- you couldn’t hold back your pleas for mercy.

“Eddie-” your voice broke, “Eddie, stop.  Please, please, stop- I can’t-”

All pleasure had left your voice, leaving only pain and fear behind.  Again, he didn’t stop.  He wanted to stop- he desperately wanted to stop.  He needed to stop, and he knew that.  He was hurting you, and that killed him, but some shameful part of his blood-drunk mind was excited by your pain.  It wanted to keep going, even if he didn’t.

In a panic-fueled attempt to end your agony, your hands pressed against Eddie’s shoulders, pushing him back.  It was enough to snap him out of it and make him stop- and it made him notice the blood dripping over your lip and down your chin.

The first word to pass his lips was, “No.”

There was a deep, disbelieving horror in his voice, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, what he had done to you.  He reached for you, slowly and cautiously, giving you plenty of time to stop him.  When you didn’t, he wiped the blood off your face with his thumb, cradling your jaw with the rest of his fingers.  

“Shit- shit, shit, shit,” his other hand came up to hover near your face.  Tears filled his eyes.  If you didn’t see it, you would’ve heard it in his voice.  Your boy sounded so broken,  “I’m sorry, baby, fuck, I’m sorry.  I wasn’t careful enough.  I didn’t mean to hurt you-”

“I know, baby.  I know.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “You know.”

Eddie wrapped his hands around yours and pinned your arms to the concrete above your head.   He kept your fingers intertwined.  As much as he hated himself for it, he didn’t want to let go.  A whimper escaped you, and you watched Eddie’s face as he shut his eyes and hissed.  For a moment, you thought he was hurt.

“Eddie-”

“You know that the man you love is a monster.  You know that every time I touch you, I risk hurting you.  You know I could kill you, the same way I killed those men tonight.  The same way they tried to kill you, I could just-”

His hands squeezed yours.  He wouldn’t look you in the eye.  He looked anywhere else, just not into your eyes.

“Eddie,” your voice was softer, reassuring.

“Sweetheart, when I fuck you, you are being violated by a monster.  If I claim you, it means that you’re owned by a monster.  If we-if I got you pregnant, if you had my kids… they’d be like me. A monster just like their dad.”

He shifted slightly, preparing to pull away from you as he began to sink into that familiar pit of self-loathing. Eddie had barely moved an inch when you latched onto him further, clinging to him, wrapping your legs around his hips to make him stay.  

“You think this is a violation?  Eddie, I asked for this.  Do you not want-?”

“Oh god.  Baby, I want this.  I want you, more than I should, but I hurt you.  I didn’t stop when you needed me to, and that- it terrifies me.  This was a mistake, I never should’ve-”

“I don’t think this was a mistake.  Any of it,” you sat up a bit, just enough to press your forehead against his, “You stopped.  I’m okay.  And, uh… I kind of liked what you were saying.  But-”

“But?”

“You really think our kids would be monsters?” you asked, “With you as their father?  No way.  Menaces, maybe, but not monsters.”

He said nothing, but a small smile crossed his face.  He didn’t pull any further away.  He just stared at you with those sweet doe eyes of his, so warm, so enamoured with you, and still so full of guilt.   

It wasn’t a surprise that his mind had gone to such a place- he had killed a bunch of people moments before, fucked you on top of their bodies, and now, he had hurt you.  It was an accident, you both knew that, but the guilt would eat him alive if he let it.  You weren’t willing to let that happen.  You hadn’t let those dark thoughts get to him in the past, and you sure as shit weren’t going to start now.

“Eddie.  Everything you did tonight, you did to save me.  Everything you do is to protect the people you love and care about.  Tonight, two years ago, and even further back. You love with everything you have.  You- are so brave, and so deeply kind, even if you pretend not to be, and if that makes you a monster, then I hope our children are monsters, too.  And I hope they have your eyes.”

He remained still for a moment.  His expression betrayed both his shock at your statement and his want.  In the next second, his lips were on yours.  He let go of your wrists, bringing his hands back to your face.  

“I love you,” he whispered into the kiss, “I love you, I love you.”

You leaned up and into him, kissing him back as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, “I love you too.  So much.  And I want you to remember, I also killed a man tonight.  If you’re a monster, then…”

He let out a quiet laugh, lips moving down your neck, feathering kisses over your skin all the way to your collarbone, “We’re monsters together, then.”

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer, “Exactly,” you purred.  You paused for a second, becoming violently aware of the weight of his cock inside of you.  You taped your fingers against his spine before you thrust your hips down against his, “You can, uh… you can start again now.  I think I’m okay.”

“You sure?”

You leaned closer, whispering against his lips, “I am.”

He pressed his lips to yours, tongue slipping between your lips as he began to thrust into you again.  His pace was quick, but not painful, and not quite so unforgiving.  Your fingers reached up to wrap around the messy strands of his hair, tugging gently.  He moaned into the kiss, sounding hungry and desperate once again.

As you drew nearer to your edge, your thoughts began to race.  His words spilled through your mind, drowning your psyche with every sentiment he’d put forward.  He loves you deeply.  He’s terrified of hurting you.  He’s desperate to keep you safe.  You mean something to him.  He’s thought about having kids with you, and you wanted him to think about that- fuck.

Your walls tightened around him.  His cock twitched inside of you as he neared his own edge.  

You whimpered out Eddie’s name, tugging on his hair until he pulled away from you.  His brows furrowed in concern as he took in the sight of you, but you didn’t look like you were in pain.  Your eyes were wide, filled with lust, and your chest heaved with every breath you took.  You were covered in blood and sweat, and you were the most beautiful thing Eddie had ever seen.  He felt your hands move to his face, and his gaze focused on your lips as you spoke.

“Eddie,” your voice was soft, “I need you to cum inside me.”

You watched as his eyes widened, as his lips parted in shock and a faint blush covered his cheeks.  You were kind of proud that even in a moment this intimate, you could still get him to flush like that.

“You- you want me to-?”

You nodded, cutting him off and pulling him closer, “I want you to fill me up.  Breed me, please.”

He shivered, a current of electricity running through him at your words.  His body and his instincts screamed at him to do exactly as you’d said.  

“You,” he whispered, “You’re perfect.”

His mouth slipped downwards, lips pressing against the space between your throat and your shoulder.  His teeth sunk into your shoulder.  Pain spread through your skin, white-hot as your blood dripped over your chest.  Your muscles spasmed around him as the coil snapped.  Your grip tightened on his hair.  You could faintly hear him cry out in your own haze.  His claws dug into you as he fell over that all-consuming edge.

Eddie bit down harder on your throat as he came, drinking just enough from you to make you see stars.  His cock throbbed against your walls as his seed spread inside you, thick, and hot, and perfect.  You clung to him, your breath stuttering as your muscles clenched, milking him for more.  

As he finished, the monstrous need to fuck and breed you faded away to nothing.  He was left with the more human parts of him after that- the parts of him that knew what aftercare was and that you would need it, the parts of him that knew he had to get you somewhere safe, somewhere away from the bodies of your attackers.  Your body was limp beneath Eddie’s.  Your eyes were closed, and your lips slightly parted.  You were fucked out, completely cock drunk, and utterly perfect.

Eddie brushed your hair off your face.  You could hear him repeating your name softly as you came back to earth.  When you opened your eyes, he was hovering above you, looking at you with more affection than you could put into words.

“Hi,” he said, voice low and slightly shaky.

“Hi,” you let one of your hands move up to his face, brushing your fingers over his cheek.

“You okay, pretty girl?”

“‘M more than okay.”

He smiled, taking your hand from his cheek and pressing his lips to it, “Thank god, I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t.”

“You’d probably lose your mind.”

“Oh, I’d definitely lose my mind.”

You finally caught your breath as he kissed each of your knuckles and your wrist before he brushed his lips down your arm and to your shoulder.  He let his cheek rest against your chest, listening to your heartbeat as it finally slowed down to something resembling normal.

Once it had, he lifted his head back up to look you in the eye, “We should probably get out of here, though.  Get you home.”

“God, I would like that so much.”

He pulled himself up until he was kneeling, fixing his pants and passing his shirt to you.  You pulled it over your head, watching as he got to his feet.  He held out his hands to you and you took them, letting him help you to stand.  You shook slightly, weak in the knees from both the attack and from everything Eddie had done to you.  You buried your face in his chest as his cum dripped down from your abused cunt onto your thigh.

“Ah,” you hissed, “I have no pants.”

Eddie left a hand on your arm, supporting you as he stooped down to collect your torn clothes, “I guess there’s no saving these?”

You shook your head, smiling slightly as he winced.

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it baby,” you leaned up and kissed his cheek, “It was more than worth it.”

His grin showed you his teeth.  He picked up his jacket off the ground and wrapped it around your shoulders.  You still had no pants, but it would be enough for now.  You pressed a kiss to his bare collarbone as thanks.  He tilted your chin up with two fingers and kissed you properly.

“Come on,” he whispered, “Let’s go home.”

You pulled away from him for a second, looking around at the abandoned barn.  It looked like a scene straight out of a horror movie.  Blood covered the floor and stained the walls.  Seven bodies laid out on the concrete, mutilated in various ways.  You felt Eddie’s fingers on your jaw, gently bringing your gaze back to him.

His eyes were wide- something in them was almost scared.  He didn’t want you to fear him- to hate him.  He didn’t want you to think that he was a monster, but the bodies in the room only led to one conclusion- and you didn’t mind it.  Monster or otherwise, Eddie was yours.  

“Yeah,” you brushed your lips against his, “Let’s go home.”

A grin crossed his face, and the fear faded from his eyes as he bent down and scooped you up, pulling you into his arms.  Maybe two years ago, when he was still human, he wouldn’t have been able to carry you home, but his vampiric strength was at present, a gift.

You let your head rest against his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck as he stepped through the blood, out of the barn, and into the night.

-

You fell asleep on the way home.  You shut your eyes outside the barn, with the moon shining above you like a pearl in an inky black ocean, and opened them in the safety of the home you shared with Eddie- Hopper’s old cabin.

It had been in a bit of a state when Hopper had given it to you, but it was more than worth the hours you’d spent fixing it.  It was a safe place for Eddie to stay- secret, isolated.  It was the only place you could stay without the fear of capture and torture hanging over your heads.

At least, it had been.  But that fear had come too close, breaking down your door and ripping its way into your life.  You had been saved this time, but the experience followed you home.  You weren’t sure what would come next.

You turned your focus away from the nebulous future and towards the present.  Beneath you, your couch was soft.  The living room was warmly lit by a lamp on the end side table next to you.  You couldn’t see Eddie, but you could hear the sound of the tap running in the bathroom.  From your spot, you could see grocery bags neatly folded on your kitchen table.  With them sat a bottle of cranberry juice.  You didn’t know whether you wanted to laugh or cry at the sight of it.

You sat up and immediately, you had regrets.  Every inch of your body ached.  Your face stung from the blows you’d taken, and the space between your legs burned and throbbed.  The bite marks that marred your skin stung, and you somehow managed to hit every bruise you had in the small act of sitting up.

Despite that pain, you forced yourself to try and stand.  You failed miserably.  Your knees buckled beneath you, and before you could do anything to maintain your balance, you were back on the couch.  The door to the bathroom swung open, and Eddie burst out with a wet cloth in hand.

“Shit!  You’re up, hi!”

You couldn’t help but smile at him as he sped towards the couch.  He was still shirtless, wearing the same pants he’d worn while saving you.  His missing shirt still covered your body and your legs were still bare.  His jacket was thrown over the back of the couch beside you.

“Hi,” you reached out for him as he got to the couch.  He took your hand in his, kissing it before he placed another kiss on your lips.

“Hey, hi,” he pulled back from you, giving your hand a squeeze, “Sorry, pretty thing, I was just- I was trying to get you cleaned up.”

“Oh!  Well,” you reached for the hem of your shirt, “That should be a little easier now that I’m up, right?”

He flushed as you pulled your shirt over your head.  It didn’t seem to matter that his cock had been inside you maybe an hour earlier, he still went red at the sight of your boobs.  You smirked at him, reaching out and running a hand through his hair.

“You are far too cute, Eddie Munson.”

“And you,” he pushed you back onto the couch, throwing himself down next to you and pulling your legs over his lap, “Are far too beautiful, sweetheart.”

He leaned down, pressing a kiss to your knee.

“So, do you uh- are you okay with this?” he raised the wet washcloth in his hand, “Or do you wanna shower, or?”

“Well, I would get up, but when I tried I fell, so,” you grimaced.

“I could help you,” he gave your leg a squeeze, “Could hold you, up if you want.”

You sat up, pressing kisses to his jaw, “I would like that.”

With a smile, he wrapped your arms around his neck and picked you back up.  The trip to the bathroom was a short one.  It took even less time for Eddie to remove his clothes and get both of you into the shower.

You kept your arms around him, leaning into his chest as warm water flowed over your back.  You could feel your muscles begin to relax, knots unravelling the longer you stood there.  Slowly, he started to move.  His touch was heartbreakingly gentle as he cleaned every bite mark and every bruise.  

In turn, you washed the sweat and blood that came with the fight off of him.  Your fingers grazed his side, and you were pleased to find that the gunshot wound he’d taken had almost healed completely.  Your hand remained there for a second, your touch feather-light and shaking slightly.  You didn’t want to hurt him.

“Hey,” you whispered, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

He laughed a little, though the sound was void of joy, “Yeah?  I’m glad that you’re alive.”

Eddie pressed a kiss to your shoulder before asking you to hang onto him.  Your hands clutched onto him as he knelt before you, washing off your thighs.  You took a deep breath as his hands neared your cunt.  He looked up at you with wide eyes, a question held within them.

He quickly put it into words, “You down for round two?”

You grinned as he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, “Yes, please.”

His mouth was on you in an instant.  He hooked your knees over his shoulders, pressing you up against the shower wall, keeping you steady with his hands.  You tilted your head back at the feeling of his tongue lapping at your arousal.  You found yourself biting down on your bottom lip as his lips wrapped around your clit.  Your hands moved over your chest, pinching lightly at your nipples.  In minutes, you were coming undone against him.  Both of you were breathless as he pulled himself away from you.

When he kissed you, you could taste yourself on his lips.  You wondered if he could taste himself in you.  He cradled your face in his hands

“How’re you feeling?”

“Stupid good,” you murmured, brushing strands of Eddie’s dripping hair out of his eyes.

“That’s what I wanna hear,” he pulled you closer to him, wrapping an arm around your waist as he kissed you a thousand more times.  You let out a content hum, smiling into him as you lost yourself in him.

As the two of you climbed out of the shower, you caught sight of your body in the mirror.  You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the reflection of your bruised and battered body.  Bitemarks littered your skin.  Splotches of red and purple covered your skin. 

You felt heat build within you at the sight of everything Eddie had done- and you felt your stomach twist at the sight of the things he hadn’t.  The marks he hadn’t left would leave scars on your mind.  You hoped they wouldn’t stain your body longer than they had to.

Eddie noticed your gaze, your eyes riveted to the mirror.  He stood from where he’d been drying off your legs and moved to stand behind you.  He took your arms in his hands, running them down until your fingers intertwined with his over your stomach.  He pressed a kiss to the side of your head, just under the bloodied spot where Kurt’s gun had struck you so much earlier.  

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispered, gently rocking you from side to side.

“Hey, don’t apologize.  You aren’t the one who kidnapped me at gunpoint and threatened to break my bones by way of gun,” you shook your head at the ridiculous nature of your captors’ plans, but Eddie had a different reaction.

He buried his face in your shoulder, letting out a whine, “Jesus Christ.”

His hands started to shake against your skin.  His breath sped up as his arms tightened around you.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.  That never should’ve happened, they never should’ve gotten to you.”

“Hey,” you broke eye contact with your reflection in the mirror and turned around in Eddie’s hold, “There was nothing you could have done.  If you had been with me, they would have tried to hurt you.  Maybe they would’ve succeeded.  And we needed groceries, so-”

“Then I should’ve sent Steve with you.  Or Nancy, just someone-”

“I had Max.  She’s arguably scarier than Steve and- oh shit, Max,” you pushed away from Eddie, stumbling as you took a step back, “Max, is she okay!?  Did someone get her?”

Eddie kept your forearms in his hands, helping to keep you steady, “Deep breaths, sweetheart, deep breaths.  Max is alright.  As soon as she called me I had Steve go and get her, ironically enough.”

“Oh, thank fuck,” you let out a tired breath as you collapsed against Eddie’s chest, “I guess we have them to thank for the grocery bags on the table?”

Eddie pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “That we do.”

“God, I’m gonna have to call them.  To say thank you.  And sorry, my God,” you rubbed at your eyes with one hand, “I can’t believe I put Max through that, holy shit.”

“Hey, hey, you didn’t put Max through anything.  You got her out of there.  That was the best thing you could do, you kept her safe.  Besides,” he moved back to look you in the eye, “Red’s a tough kid.  She’s dealt with worse than this.”

“I know,” your voice was half a groan, “I still feel bad, though.”

“Well, yeah,” Eddie gently grabbed a hold of you, turning you around to face yourself in the mirror.  His hands slipped back into yours, and he brought them back to the expanse of your stomach, “You’ve had, what some would call, a long day, sweetheart.”

You leaned into him, letting out a soft whine when he pressed his lips to your shoulder.  You squeezed his hands, “Yeah, you could say that.”

Eddie squeezed back, “Let’s get you to bed, huh?”

“Fuck.  Yes, please.”

He picked you up again, pulling you into his arms and letting your head rest against his chest.  You felt a bit ridiculous having him carry you around your small home, but it wasn’t like you had much of a choice.  Your legs were tired, too weak to carry you.  Fortunately, Eddie was more than strong enough.

He laid you on the bed gently, planting a kiss over your new bitemarks before he crawled into bed with you.  He started at your side, but within minutes, he was on top of you, his head resting between your breasts.  He took your hands in his, intertwining your fingers before kissing them gently.

The two of you lay in silence for a few moments.  You ran a hand through his still-damp hair, listening to the sound of your breathing and his.  For perhaps the first time today, you were both breathing evenly, completely calm.  

On top of you, Eddie was listening to the sound of your heartbeat, sure and steady beneath him.  He had spent so much of the day afraid that he would never hear that sound again.  He had been terrified that he was going to lose you- that the town that had taken so much from him would take you, too.

But it hadn’t.  It had tried, the jocks had tried, but he had stopped them.  You were safe now.  Safe, and protected, and Eddie seriously didn’t plan on letting you out of his sight for a few days.

“Hey,” you whispered, “How did you- how did you know where I was?  Max saw me get kidnapped, but she didn’t know where they took me after.”

His fingers brushed over your temple, “I could smell your blood.  Almost killed me when I noticed it.  The stronger it got… the more I wanted to end them.”

You leaned into his touch, placing your hand over his.

“I wouldn’t take back what I did,” he continued, “I don’t regret it.  I could never regret it.  But I’m- I’m afraid that all I am is a weapon.  That all I’ll ever be is a weapon.  The things Vecna made me do…” he faded off into silence, pulling away and rubbing his hands over his eyes.

You sat up with him, reaching out to trace his strong, scarred arms.  You could do nothing but watch as a war raged inside the man you loved.  Guilt slipped beneath your skin, thrumming beneath muscle and bone.  Eddie had protected you- he killed for you without remorse, and you were excited by that violence.  You wondered again what that said about you.

Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead to Eddie’s.  He relaxed against you, calmed by your touch.

“Hey, you know you’re more than that, right?”  You echoed his words from earlier, “You’re not a weapon, you’re not his puppet, you’re-”

“I’m your man,” he said, a small grin crossing his face, “Your protector.  Your slut.”

You giggled, shocked and pleased, and Eddie looked so proud to be the cause of the smile on your face.  When his laughter subsided, you crawled into his hold, straddling his lap and wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands moved to your waist.  You sat there for a moment, taking in his lack of a heartbeat as he listened to the steady rhythm of yours.

“You know this goes both ways, right?” You whispered, running your fingers over the spot where his wings met his back, “You protect me, I protect you?  And we protect… whatever comes along.  I might not have the claws or the fangs, but I’ve been told I can be a bit of a bitch when I want to be, so there’s that.”

Eddie pulled you closer to him, pinning your chest to his and holding you there as he laid back on the mattress.  One of his hands brushed through your hair while the other traced intricate patterns over your back.  You shut your eyes and let yourself bury your face in the space between his neck and his shoulder.

“I know,” he tilted his face to press a kiss to your head, “I couldn’t have asked for a better bodyguard.”

You smiled against his throat, “Neither could I.”

You hummed contentedly as he pulled a blanket over your bodies.  The mindless motions of his calloused hands on your back pulled the tension from your muscles, making you relax.  Your eyelids grew heavy as you breathed him in- the faint scents of blood and cigarette smoke overtaken by the smell of your body wash.  You were so calm, unafraid, and bizarrely happy for a woman who had spent most of her day trying not to die at the hands of her kidnappers.  

Maybe having sex on the corpses of your enemies was just a natural mood booster.  Maybe it was the man you were having sex with.

“You make me feel safe,” you murmured, words slurred with sleep, “Always have.”

“Good,” his voice was quiet, but he sounded like he was wide awake.  You focused on the feeling of his hand running through your hair, of his skin, ice cold beneath your lips.

“Keep doing it?”

“I always will, sweetheart.  I won’t let anything hurt you.  I won’t lose you.”

“Promise?”

He nodded, and you smiled against his neck, “Good.  Protect me.”

Without waiting for a response, you pulled his skin between your teeth and bit down; hard enough to bruise, but not hard enough to draw the sweet cranberry-coloured wine that ran through his veins.  His soft moan was music to your ears.  With your lips on his throat, and his hands in your hair, you fell into a dreamless sleep.  Eddie stayed awake through the night, keeping watch over you until the sun began to rise. 

[simplyalexeiofficial]

Penelope and Eloise (and Marina!) are such interesting characters who’s interpersonal situations are truly grey and I think that who’s “side” fans tend to lean toward really depends on whether or not they ascribe to the individual or the greater good.

For me, I obviously lean more towards Penelope’s perspective. This is because, as much as understand and sympathize with Eloise’s feelings of hurt and betrayal, I also see so many of her comments and actions as ignorant and willfully naive. She does things without fully thinking through the consequences, putting both herself and her family at risk. !BOOK SPOILER START! In her story, this is literally the cause of her marrying — she decides to run off ALONE to a man’s home whom she’s never actually met without telling her family, leaving herself stuck in the situation where she has to marry him not only to protect her own reputation but also that of her entire family. !BOOK SPOILER END!

Marina was very much the same in season 1. I sympathize with her perspective, and while I don’t think her actions were as naive as Eloise, I think that she was so focused on trying to grasp the best option for herself that she refused to acknowledge that by doing so she would absolutely ruin BOTH the Featherington’s and Bridgerton’s with a scandal much less recoverable for either family than the one penned by Whistledown.

Meanwhile, the reason that I agree more with Penelope over the others is precisely the reason anti-Penelope fans dislike her. She is fully knowledgeable about the potential consequences of her actions. She considers all of the angles and tries to find alternatives, and even her most controversial decisions are made with such tangible regret that we see her sobbing on screen multiple times, but they are decisions that she makes the way she does because they limit the damage to all parties involved as much as possible. Now, could she have done things differently if she thought bringing in someone to her secret was an option? Absolutely! But she didn’t think it was — something that, given what we see of her home environment and how her friendships are largely reliant on her supporting the other individual, makes sense for her character.

Anyway, all that is to say that I think people who tend to view these scenarios from the perspective of the individual also tend to agree with Eloise/Marina, where as those who tend to view from the perspective of the greater good also tend to agree with Penelope.

Philosophically speaking, neither perspective is “wrong”, but I don’t know that everyone contributing to the conversation fully understands that, which is where we get the black and white hot takes that blatantly attack these characters as awful people.