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xzaddyzanakinx · 2 months

Text

Dear Diary

Emo!Anakin Skywalker x Femme reader Oneshot

Warnings: CNC, Dom/Sub, predator/prey, rape kink, unprotected PiV, misogyny, derogatory comments, knife, bondage, gagging, blood, whipping, spanking, spitting, slapping, biting, mask kink

Info: never leave your diary unattended, he loves you so much that he’ll do anything for you, don’t question why Anakin is so good at being scary (he’s straight up terrifying)

🕊DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT 🕊 This is DARK

“Hey, you know there’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.” Anakin’s soft voice floated down to where your head rested in his lap on this sleepy Sunday afternoon.

“Mmm?” You hummed, tilting your head slightly to look up at his face.

You expected to see a soft expression to match the gentle tone of voice, but you were mistaken. His lip had a sneaky little curve to it, like he had a secret that he was dying to share. He reached his long arm over to the nightstand and opened the drawer. Fishing something out and holding it up for you to see.

Your diary. It wasn’t one of his secrets. It was yours.

You squealed in protest and shot up from your resting place much too fast. After being sedentary all day long your brain had a hard time remembering what it needed to do in a high-stakes situation. After the dizzy spell settled slightly you tried and failed to snatch that horrid little book away from him.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

You should’ve known better than to keep a written record of anything, let alone your darkest secrets, with Anakin around. That handsome little shit can’t keep his dirty little paws off of your or your stuff.

“Anakin please!” You pleaded, pouting out your bottom lip.

“Shhh baby.” He laughed, flipping through the pages. “I occasionally read a few pages… just to make sure you’re happy with me of course.”

Right. Of course he would do that.

“Cause sometimes you don’t like to talk about your feelings right?” He chided.

“Yeah.” You grumbled.

“And it seems like my sweet sweet girl had some dirty thoughts since the last time I checked this book.” A sickly saccharine smile materialized on his lips

“Anakin no!” You gasped, hiding your face in embarrassment.

“Bunny, yes!” He teasingly replied.

“Look, right here it is princess. About a month ago. I took you to that new horror movie remember?”

“Yes.” You squeaked.

Anakin nodded, clearing his throat as he ran his finger under the messy scribbles in your diary.

“You said: ‘that scene where he’s chasing her through the woods and caught her? Christ that growl was sinful, but coming from Anakin? I’d be a goner. Knife and all.’”

You blushed fiery red and snatched it from his hands, tossing it to the floor defiantly despite knowing the damage had already been done.

"Anakin that is none of your business!" You pouted.

"But it is now, isn't it?" He whispered, tracing circles on your throat with his thumb.

"It’s okay darlin’ I don’t need that silly little book. I’ve memorized the good parts.” He chuckled as he spotted it on the floor.

“What else did you say? 'I want him rough, maybe even have him wear a mask like in the movie.'” He grinned gripping your cheeks to puff out your lips and give you a playful kiss.

“So I said to myself: ‘Anakin, that sounds like a challenge.’ and you know I love a challenge.”

“Anakin! You weren’t supposed to see that!” You yelped. “That’s embarrassing!”

Anakin chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh no? I think I need to see this fantasy of yours come true."

He released your cheeks and stood up, rummaging through the closet until he found an old hockey mask that he'd worn during his youth.

"Stay here," he commanded before disappearing into the living room.

You sat and stewed in your embarrassment, thinking of all the ways you’d like to squeeze his tiny head until it popped off. How dare he? He read your diary! Ridiculous.

His voice called your name and you were snapped out of your emotional festering.

“C’mon. We got places to be.” Anakin grinned, the car keys in his hand and a small backpack slung over his shoulder.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

He wants to go somewhere now? After he’d just humiliated you in front of your entire collection of stuffed animals?

Anakin nodded, a devilish grin on his face. "We're going on an adventure, Bunny."

Oh. Oh no.

“You’re serious?” You gasped. “like right now?”

He tossed the backpack into the backseat of his Ford pickup truck and opened the passenger door for you, waiting for you to get in. He clicked his tongue like he was calling for a dog, patting your head to scoot you along.

"Come on, baby," he urged, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "Where we're going, no one can find us."

You blushed, but obeyed regardless. You trusted him with your life and depending on how this excursion went you might just end up putting that trust to the test.

“W-we don’t have to do this Ani.” You said quietly.

“I mean… I never even- I didn’t think you’d ever find out.”

Anakin's grin faded slightly, his eyes softening as he cupped your face. "Baby, it's okay. You don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with," he reassured you.

"I want to make this happen for you. Plus, I think this will be fun." He added with a smirk, the sincerity in his voice reflected in the icy blue of his eyes.

He climbed into the driver's seat, starting the engine and pulling out of your driveway.

“Like you’re sure you wanna do this? Like you actually want to? Not just because you know I wanna try it?” You asked, picking at your fingers as you forced myself to make eye contact.

Anakin met your gaze, his eyes filled with an understanding for your concerns. "I want this as much as you do, Bunny," he promised.

"So let's go have some fun, shall we?" he asked, pulling out onto the highway.

You slipped your hand into his, the drive was only about 30 minutes. Even with the short distance it seemed like you were far, far away from anyone and anything. The afternoon sun was dwindling quickly over the horizon. It made you wonder if Anakin had done alittle research and a lot of planning before enacting this ambush on you.

“Look at me bunny.” Anakin said softly.

“Safe word is red okay? You say red and every thing stops immediately. Understand?”

“Yes.” You nodded giving him a little smile.

“Good.” He agreed with a kiss to your forehead. His eyes bright and sparkling with this new brand of adrenaline. “Here’s the plan.”

“Once we get out of this truck, you’re the pretty little victim and I’m the big scary killer.” He teased, though he held a serious tone behind the playful words.

“Is that okay? I won’t talk like myself, I’m gonna do my best to be mean and scary okay?”

“Yeah that’s okay,” You blushed at the thought.

“I want you to run. I’ll give you a pretty good head start. Don’t look behind you until you hit the tree line okay?” He grinned.

“Okay I can do that.” You giggled, the reality of your situation kicking in as you began to realize Anakin *had* done his research. He really did want to do this just as much as you did.

“I’ve got a mask.” He pulled out the hockey mask from his bag. “A rope, a knife, and a bandanna. Are these things okay? It’s a real knife, it’s one of the kitchen knives.”

“Yeah.” You nodded, biting your lip as you looked at him, already imagining him in character. “yeah that’s all okay.”

“Do you want me to cut you?” He asked, staring you in the eyes.

“M-maybe alittle.” You nodded, your expression turned serious again. “just not where anyone else can see okay?”

“Got it babydoll. I promise.” He said gently.

“Okay.” You smiled, nervous but so so excited.

“I’m gonna put my hair up.” You giggled. Tying your hair up in a ponytail.

Anakin watched you, a mix of excitement and protectiveness in his eyes. "You look so fucking hot," he muttered, his voice low and rough.

"Alright, princess," he said, his voice now deep and menacing. He grabbed the hockey mask, and held it in your direction to point at you.

"Get out of the truck and run as fast as you can. Don't look back until you reach the tree line." He paused, reaching for the knife, sheathing it on his hip. Shoving the rope in his hoodie pocket, the bandanna in his jeans pocket.

"Remember, red means stop. Whatever happens from here on out, I'll make sure you're safe."

You watched him put the mask on, heart pounding in your chest as you unbuckled your seatbelt and stepped out of the truck into the cooling dusk air. Anakin got out of the truck on his side, looking over at you and nodding his head.

“Run.” He snarled, his features completely hidden by the mask and distorting his voice a bit more than you’d anticipated.

Your only light source was the setting sun and rising moon as you booked it through the field, keeping your eyes forward as your heart beat quickly. You reached the tree line and finally looked back, seeing Anakin running at a full sprint toward you. The prey instinct in your hindbrain kicked into overdrive and adrenaline flooded like ice through your veins.

You froze for a moment until you heard what could only be described as a psychotic laugh ripped through Anakin’s chest. Finally back to your senses you turned on your toes and started running again, only to be tripped by your own feet.

You steadied yourself quickly and recovered your pace after a sharp squeal left you when your knees hit the ground. Your burst of fear driven speed surprised you, but only fueled Anakin’s laughter. You weren’t sure if he was laughing as himself or as the character he was playing, either way… it was terrifying.

You made the mistake of looking back again and realized how quickly he was gaining on you. He had given you a generous headstart for a good reason. Like he’d anticipated you’d fawn instead of flee.

How did he know that?

Anakin was closing the gap, his breath heavy but not labored as he chased after you. You wondered what his eyes looked like behind that mask. Would they be familiar? Or would they be akin to a cold blooded killer?

You stumbled as you whipped your head back to the path ahead and he lunged forward, wrapping his arm around your chest and tackling you to the ground with a heavy thump.

The mask hid his grin as he pinned you down with his body weight, but you could * feel * it. The satisfaction he felt at catching his trophy was palpable, now… now you weren’t completely certain your Anakin was really there behind that hard plastic mask.

"Caught you bitch." He growled, his voice remained menacing. "You're mine now."

You struggled against him, the sides of your fists not even coming close to making contact with his chest. His grip on you was painful, bruising and just what you wanted.

“N-no!” You whimpered. So incredibly turned on by his aggression.

He was surprisingly great at this role, he was doing everything perfectly as if he’d done it before. A nagging thought tickled your mind, what if? But he gave you no time to consider it.

“No?” He laughed, rolling you underneath him so that your face was pressed into the forest floor. His knee pressing down on your back as he roughly tied your arms together behind your back with a practiced ease.

“No! Please!” He mocked you in a whiny impression of your voice.

“Pathetic.” He hissed.

You fought harder, wriggling and trying to get out of his grasp. His hand gripped your ponytail with enough force to make your scalp sting, yanking your head back.

“Stop fucking moving.” He growled as brought his lips to your ear, then he let go of your hair cruelly letting you face plant into the dirt.

“Ow!” You whined in pain, it actually did hurt. Not bad, just enough to make you see stars and feel heat bloom across your cheek.

“P-please! Stop!”

He laughed, the sound gritty and almost unrecognizable. He used both hands to roughly tug your jeans down your thighs, using the knife to cut your underwear off.

You wriggled and squirmed, panting helplessly as all your movement did was undress you further. Your jeans bunched around your knees, leaving you exposed and vulnerable to whatever he had planned for you.

Anakin's breaths were ragged, his heart pounding in sync with yours as he stood over you. Lightly tapping your hip with the toe of his shoe.

"Shut the fuck up, bitch," He snarled. "You made me work for it."

He took the knife, running it down your side, as he kneeled beside you. Forcibly turning your head to make you look at him. He trailed the knife along the back of your thighs, leaving tiny threads of red behind.

"Now you're gonna pay for your insolence." His voice was harsh and cold with an undeniable lust hidden beneath.

“No! No I’ll do anything I swear!” You cried out. Kicking and fighting against him as best as you could.

You heard him taking off his belt, felt him shoving his jeans down and even the familiar grunt as he pulled out his cock.

“I told you to shut your fucking mouth didn’t I?” He snapped at you.

Gripping his belt tightly in his hands he cracked the leather across your ass hard, causing you to scream out in pain.

“Stupid whore.” He scoffed. “what did I just say? You want it again?”

“N-no! Fuck that hurt!” You yelled.

“God you really are stupid aren’t you?” He laughed, cracking the leather down on your red ass cheeks again.

This time you were able to bite down on your lip and suppress the loud crying moan that tried to escape. You knew the tender flesh of your bottom lip would definitely be an angry red for the next few days as a taste of blood hit your tongue.

“That’s better.” He scoffed.

Pumping his cock a few times behind you before spreading your ass cheeks wide and smacking your hip hard to get you to lift up just a bit.

He set his sights on your incredibly drenched pussy. The view might make a weaker man cum on the spot, but Anakin wasn’t a weak man. He’d made that very clear today.

“Never seen you so fucking wet.” He whispered, in awe of the dripping mess you’d made of your cunt. The momentary break of character that you weren’t supposed to hear reassured you that it was definitely still Anakin under that mask.

Anakin's cock twitched, his eyes locked on your pulsing hole, watching it flutter around nothing. He chuckled and spit on his hand before rubbing it on the head of his cock. Letting out a low groan as he tugged on his balls for good measure.

"You're going to take this like a good little slut," He growled, lining up his thickness with your entrance. "And you're not going to fucking scream."

With a low hiss he thrust into you, your body protesting the sudden intrusion with a jerk. You failed to listen to his command and let out a muffled cry behind closed lips as he sank deep inside your heat.

"Quiet, bitch," he warned, pulling back and thrusting again, setting a rough rhythm. "Or I'll really give you somethin’ to cry about.”

You couldn’t help yourself, you whimpered and moaned and drooled in spite of his warnings. The feeling of being taken so roughly, but knowing you were safe… was intoxicating. It was unlike anything you’d ever felt.

Anakin moved suddenly and you saw a flash of red before he yanked back your head, shoving the bandanna in your mouth to use as a gag.

You coughed and gagged on the dry fabric as he forced it in your mouth. Anakin's thrusts became more frantic, his hips moving in quick, hard strokes. With the gag in place you let yourself be loud, there was no point in staying quiet right? If you were heard it would be * his * fault for not properly securing your gag.

"Dirty little thing aren’t you? Filthy. You like this don’t you!? Huh?" He snarled, slapping your ass hard with his free hand. "Scream for me, you fucking whore. No body can hear you. No body is coming to help you."

You moaned into the gag, body trembling as he pounded into you relentlessly. Each slap of skin against wetness echoed in the still night air, punctuating your defilement.

"C’mon, you can fight harder than that." He growled, grinding against you he placed one hand on your lower back and used it as leverage to hold you in place.

He laughed loudly, clearly enjoying the power trip he was on. He’d never fucked you like this before, he’d been rough yes… but this? This was blinding. Hot, white, blinding pleasure that spilled over into pain.

“So fucking tight.” He groaned. “pitiful little pussy. Bet you were a virgin weren’t you?”

You whimpered, the bandanna in your mouth wet from saliva. Tears dripping down your cheeks from his rough treatment. Your legs shaking violently as he fucked you into the dirt.

And he expected you to speak?

“Answer me.” He demanded, ripping the fabric from your mouth, the suddenness of it being pulled from your throat made you gag violently.

“C’mon. Talk to me. You’ve been dying to fucking talk and now you’ve got nothin’ to say?”

“Y-yes.” You sobbed, unable to form more than a few words. “Virgin.”

“Oh I knew it. Fuckin’ knew it.” He groaned.

Anakin's thrusts grew more furious, his cock sliding in and out of your tight ‘virgin’ pussy with each word grunt and groan that fell from his pretty lips. His hand gripped your hair, pulling your head back when you started squirming out from under him again.

"You think you can get away from me? Think you can run? You’re mine now, bitch." He spat, slapping the side of your face. "I own your little cunt now."

You cried harder from the pain, tears streaming down your dirt streaked face as he continued to pound into you without mercy.

"No one else is gonna touch you. No one else is gonna have you." He growled, his words thick with possession.

“Gonna take you home. Tie you up.” He grunted. “Fuck you whenever I want.”

“No one’s gonna miss you are they?” He laughed, “Just a worthless little nobody aren’t you? Yeah, you are.”

“That’s okay though sweetheart.” He cooed, sweetness laced with venom. “I want you. I want you all to myself, show you that all you’re good for is this.”

He spit, ripping his mask off to bite you hard, leaving clear teeth marks on your shoulder. The mask hit the ground near your head and you stared at it with big wide red-rimmed eyes as a violent orgasm ripped through you. Your cunt spasmed around him, slick leaking out and coating your thighs.

The squelching noises filled you with a new wave of embarrassment and fresh tears wetted your cheeks. You might’ve been done, but Anakin wasn’t. He had no plans of stopping now, this wasn’t over until he said it was.

“Stop! Please oh god.” You whined, scrunching your nose up as your body vibrated from the overstimulation.

“Stop? Oh you don’t mean that.” He moaned. “you just fucking creamed all over my cock.”

“Don’t lie to me. You know you like it.” He snickered, you could hear the grin gracing his lips.

“No! No! Please! I don’t!” You struggled, trying to get out of your bindings, the rope digging further into your wrists. “Please stop!”

“Fuck toys don’t talk.” He growled.

Anakin shifted his weight, now leaning with his forearm across your back, his sharp elbow cutting into the muscle to give himself an extra edge to his brutality. You thought he was comfortable in his position, but you were wrong. This was just a transition period.

His arm slid up your back to wrap your hair around his fist, exposing your neck and pining you in place.

A glint of sliver shined in your peripheral, followed by the cool metal blade of his knife on the soft skin of your throat. He had the flat side pressed firmly beneath your Adam’s apple. Anakin's thrusts grew more frantic, his cock sliding in and out of your tight, weeping pussy as he held the knife.

"One word," he growled, his eyes dark with lust and dominance. "And you’ll wish you were dead."

You whimpered, body shaking as you struggled against my bindings. Your cunt clenched around him, milking his cock with each powerful thrust.

"Make me cum, bitch." He snarled, his breathing labored. "Or I’ll slit your fucking throat right here."

His words sent a jolt of electricity through you. This was sick, you were sick. How could you possibly like this? Being threatened with a knife against your throat? You didn’t know, didn’t understand and maybe didn’t even want to. Maybe the logistics behind the thrill of this was better off unexplored. You decided then and there you would never let yourself explore that nagging little ‘what if’ about Anakin too.

His grip on the knife tightened, his thrusts becoming harder with each passing second. You controlled your breathing as best you could. Trying desperately not to move as another orgasm washed over your tired body. Your entire being vibrating with the intense energy, cunt spasming around his twitching member, leaking and dripping slick all over again.

“That's it," Anakin growled, his hips moving faster and harder, growing sloppy. His breathing ragged as he felt himself nearing the finish line. "C’mon, make me fucking cum and I’ll let you live."

"You're gonna say thank you after I cum. You hear me?" He snarled, biting the nape of your neck roughly like a dog in heat.

His balls tightened up, his cock pulsating inside you. Your pussy tightly enveloping him, feeling every twitch and jerk.

You squeaked as the cool blade dragged across your throat in a way that felt alittle too real, a little to close to being sliced open. Though you breathed a sigh of relief as the knife now pressed into your shoulder blade. The sharp tip popping through your skin.

“Gonna put a little ‘A’ right here. You want that? Answer me!” He asked through clenched teeth, staving off his orgasm in favor of torturing you.

“No! Please it hurts!” You screamed, the pain bringing you so incredibly close to cumming again.

He let out a familiar whine, followed by a choked moan as he carved the first letter of his name into your unblemished shoulder.

“You should’ve kept still. Now it’s crooked.” He scoffed.

You screamed out in pleasure, hiccuping as you tried to catch your breath. Anakin’s cock throbbing inside your abused walls. You whimpered as an overwhelming orgasm took hold of you. Your body convulsing in a way it never had before, with Anakin never slowing his hard albeit mess pace. He laughed as he watched your bound hands clasp themselves together as you held your breath.

The dam broke and you squirted, making a mess of yourself and him. You could feel the hot wet liquid dripping down your legs, hear it sloshing and squelching with each thrust.

Anakin’s laugh cut off into a choked groan, his cock jerking violently inside you as he came. His thrusts becoming wild and erratic, his body shaking with the force of his release.

"Fuck," he growled, collapsing against you as he finished. "You're a fucking mess, aren’t you?"

You sobbed into the dirt, body still trembling from the intense orgasm. Your pussy clenching around his softening cock, milking him for every last drop of cum.

"That’s right. Good girl.” He moaned, slowly pumping in and out of your swollen and well used cunt.

“Atta girl. You’re a good fuck so long as you keep your mouth shut.” Anakin let out a pained whine as he pulled out of you, leaving your pussy gaping and filled with his seed.

He cut the rope from your wrists and hissed when he saw the red marks. He broke character again for the simple fact that he felt terribly about accidentally hurting you. It was one thing to do it purposely, but this was unacceptable, he chided himself for tying you too tightly under his breath. He leaned down to kiss each wrist gently before tapping your ass with his hand.

“Get up. All fours.” He growled. Back to playing your big scary killer.

You sniffled, doing as he said as quickly as you could even though your body felt weak and jittery.

“Fuck.” He groaned spreading your ass cheeks apart, his thumbs keeping your pussy lips spread so that he could see his hard work; the mess he’d made of you.

He dove into your slick, reddened folds. His tongue laving and sucking your clit. He moaned and whined like he was the one getting pleasured. He shoved his tongue into your hot, raw hole and licked his cum out of you, mumbling dirty words with each breath.

"You taste so fucking good." He groaned, his voice muffled. "So wet and fuckin’ messy. I love it."

You whimpered, his tongue darting in and out of your still-throbbing cunt, tasting the evidence of your rough sex.

"You’re gonna be mine forever." He growled, his words slurred with lust. "No one else is ever gonna touch you again."

His fingers found your entrance, teasingly playing with it before sliding inside, stretching you open again. Your body trembled, pussy clenching around him in protest of his reentry. He leaned forward licking the trickles of blood from your shoulder and gathering it in his mouth. He sat back on his heels and then spit the mixture of his cum, his spit and your blood into your pussy, gently shoving it inside with his fingers.

The act was filthy. Disgusting. But so fucking hot, so sexy, so much so that your pussy contracted around his fingers again. Alittle bit of squirt dribbling out as your body shook. Anakin's eyes darkened as he felt you clench around his fingers once again.

"Fuck." He grumbled, hid grip on your hips tightening. "You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you?"

You sobbed, body trembling with the impending orgasm or maybe just from the humiliation. Who knows? At this point you couldn’t tell left from right.

"You just want to get used and ruined, don’t you?" He growled, his fingers thrusting in and out of you. "So fucking ready for it. So desperate for a cock like mine to take care of you."

His words sent you over the edge, body shaking as you came yet again. Your pussy fluttering around his fingers, dribbles of liquid leaking down his hand.

“N-no more.” You whimper, begging for a break.

“Oh poor thing.” He laughed. “it just feels so good that it hurts huh?”

“Y-yes.” You cried, sniffling. Your arms weak and wobbly.

“You’ll get used to it.” He said pulling out his fingers and roughly smacking your pussy with his hand.

You screamed, a choked whimpering sob. You were beyond sensitive, you could feel how swollen you were. But even through the pain, a jolt of pure pleasure shot through your core.

“Get up.” He growled, tucking himself back into his jeans, pulling you to your feet by the hair.

He shoved you against a tree and barked out the instruction for you to stay there. He picked up the knife and bandanna, kicking the ruined rope aside and shoving the ripped panties in his pocket. He grabbed his belt and cracked it against your ass hard one last time before putting his belt back on.

“You didn’t say thank you.” He reminded you.

“Say thank you. Ungrateful bitch.”

M’sorry!” You whimpered. “th-thank you. Thank you.”

“That’s better.” He grunted, yanking your jeans back up and leaving them unbuttoned. The fabric wet and sticky from all the abuse.

“Turn around. Can’t leave those gorgeous tits without any attention right?” He chuckled darkly.

He grabbed your chin examining your face when you slowly turned around. His other hand pulling up your shirt.

“Still pretty. Even after all that.” He said softly a small glimpse at your Anakin, not this brutal character he played. But it was gone quicker than you could blink.

"Beautiful." Anakin murmured, his eyes lingering on your tits before he leaned in to lick and kiss each one. "You’re gonna be so pretty covered in bruises, huh?"

Your breath hitched, nipples pebbling as he sucked and licked at them. His hands cupping and squeezing your breasts roughly, leaving red marks on the soft skin.

He bit down and pulled your nipples with his teeth causing you to yelp in pain. Eliciting a dark laugh from him.

“C’mon,” He grumbled. “let’s get going. I’ve got plans for my new whore.”

He grabbed the back of your neck and shoved you forward, making you stumble and almost trip. You stayed silent other than your sniffling and wiping your nose and eyes as you walked on jelly legs.

"Don't think you're done." Anakin growled, his grip on your neck tightening as you walked. "I’ll never be done with you."

His free hand grabbed your ass, squeezing it roughly before letting go. His eyes never leaving the path ahead.

"You owe me. You know that? A lifetime of obedience and gratitude." He laughed, pushing your forward again. “I could’ve killed you and I didn’t. That’s called a life debt baby.”

You nodded, seeing the truck in the field and breathing a sigh of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk much further.

“Almost there.” He said plainly.

Once you reached the truck he opened the door and helped you inside gently. Giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

He walked around to his side and shoved the items along with his hockey mask down inside the bag. Tossing it to the floor board as he climbed in beside you, pulling you against his chest in a comforting, soothing hug. You sighed, leaning into him. His warmth and closeness comforting you.

"Good girl." Anakin whispered into your hair, his voice softening. He kissed the top of your head gently. "You did so good. I love you doll. I love you so so much."

"Hang tight, baby. We’ll get you cleaned up and back home soon enough." He murmured, his hand resting on your thigh reassuringly.

You gripped his shirt, there was something thrilling about his possessiveness, his control over you. “I love you too Ani.” You whispered, voice shaky.

Once the short drive was over he helped you out of his truck, turning around and leaning forward to give you a piggy back ride to the house.

You sighed thankfully and climbed up. Hugging around his neck and inhaling his comforting scent. Nuzzling into his neck as he carried you into your home. Locking the front door behind him. He softly sat you on the couch, giving you a gentle forehead kiss.

Wordlessly he went to the kitchen and got himself and you a glass of water. Placing the cup in your shaking hands, making sure you drank some before he chugged down his.*

“You okay babydoll?” He asked, pulling you into his lap. “that was pretty intense.”

“I-I’m okay.” You nodded. “y-yeah it w-was intense.”

You gave him a soft smile. “It was fun though… I’m just gonna be really, really sore.”

"You’re so fucking precious.” He murmured, nuzzling your neck. "All worn out and sore, but still smiling at me."

"We'll take it slow next time, okay?" He whispered in your ear, kissing your temple softly. "You tell me when you’re ready for sex again baby. I’m not gonna ask until you come to me.”

You nodded, sighing contentedly. Your head resting against his chest as he held you close, breathing slowly returning to normal.

“Are you glad I read your diary now?”

Tag-List:

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star-suh · 2 months

Text

One Fleshlight and Two Boys

Seok Matthew x Male Reader

cw: sex toys, masturbation, nipple play, some bicep worshiping, fingering, cum swallowing.

an: this is nasty.

—

matthew organized a movie night with his friends but only yn showed up, the rest cancelled at the last moment ‘damn bastards’ he thought.

“so what are we watching tonight” yn asked while grabbing the food and the drinks. “what about a horror movie?” matthew showed the other some of the top movies of that genre. “choose the vest one" answered the guest.

two movies and a lot of empty beer cans later the two guys were tipsy and being so touchy with each other. “your biceps are so big matt” yn slurred touching the other's arm, “yeah? you like them?” he flexed his arm leaving yn amazed with the sight. “hell yeah…” yn left some little kisses on it, kisses that burn matthew's warm skin “hey!” he yelled “my mouth's here” he says pouting, something that made yn smile, “silly” he murmured.

both share a kiss, but it was a desperate one as if they were waiting for that moment forever, sometimes matthew would open his mouth wide so that yn could suck his tongue. saliva being smeared all over their faces. “hold on” matthew broke the kiss, “wait here i have something you might like”.

the two were naked now, stroking their cocks while matthew was preparing a fleshlight. he slowly introduced his cock on it, moaning so loud, “shit… this is so good” he laughs.

yn grabs the fleshlight and starts moving it up and down matthew's cock while the latter strokes yn's cock with his hand. “how does it feel matt? is it good?” yn eagerly asks, licking his lips. “wanna try it?” matthew take out his cock and push the toy down yn's, “you tell me.. how does it feel”.

minutes passed and the pair keep sharing the toy, yn uses it for 10 minutes and then matthew use it for another 10 minutes. suddenly an idea pops up in matthew's mind, “what if we do a competition?”, yn looks at him, curiosity plastered all over his face, “let's see with how many loads can we fill this toy, but the first one to run out of cum loses and will have to drink all the content”.

“your nasty matthew” yn comments, “come on it's not like you haven't swallowed my cum before” he grabs yn's chin “and i know you like it” he whispers and then kissed him. yn reluctantly agrees and begins to masturbate matthew with the toy as fast as he could. “you can do more than that” a cocky matthew said mocking yn's jerking ability, “shut your mouth” he said and starts sucking the other's chest, sucking and biting at his nipples until they're red and sensitive “why the fuck haven't you cum yet?” he was about to give up but finally the other came with a loud growl and some whimpers later. yn was amazed for the amount of cum that matthew had ejaculated, "shit, do you have a factory down there or what?, milkman”. matthew just laughs and adds “yes, a whole factory and it can be just for you”.

matthew slides the toy down yn's cock and he immediately starts to whimper, the toy hugs his cock so well but the sensation of matthew's warm cum acting as lube was heavenly, “shit” he murmurs, a wave of pleasure going through his body everytime matthew moves the toy. his hand starts exploring yn's body until it finally reaches his hole, yn didn't realized what was happening until he feels one finger inside of him, “hey! what do yo think you're do–” matthew didn't let him finish speaking when he accelerated the pace of both his hands. with stimulation on both sides it was a matter of seconds for yn to cum.

jets of white sticky cum being shot inside the plastic toy filling it up and mixing it with matthew's seed.

hours passed and the pair was still going at it, while yn was already feeling tired and empty, matthew was like he just poured his first load inside the toy.

“i can't anymore” yn sighs pulling out his flaccid dick out of the toy, “then i guess i won” matthew says still stroking his rock hard cock. “what's with the cocky smirk?”; “you have to drink all of this, remember?” matthew shakes the object “open up for me please” he removes the lid of the toy and spills all the liquid into the other's mouth, with some of it falling out of it and sliding down his neck, “you look so sexy right now” matthew throws the object and start kissing the other, playing with the remaining cum with their tongues “what .. if we play.. something else” he says between pants “ let's see how many loads can i put inside you this time”, the tip of his cock already sliding on yn's hole. “i'm gonna drain your balls matt” yn replies guiding the cock towards his hole, putting it all inside.

#seok matthew x male reader #matthew x male reader #seok woohyun x male reader #zb1 x male reader #zerobaseone x male reader #seok matthew smut #seok matthew x male reader smut #seok woohyun x male reader smut #male reader #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #smut #male reader smut

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bloompompom · 3 months

Text

Cold, Cold, Cold | ONE-SHOT

for always acting so cold toward one another, it really didn't take much for things to heat up...

✧ content: ~5.8k word count. eren jaeger x female reader, modern au, dubcon due to marijuana use, switch!eren/reader, haters to hate-fuckers, okay maybe you have a soft spot for one another idk, dry humping, light choking, f!fingering, degradation themes, dirty talk, spit play, rough sex, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, facial, explicit sexual content, explicit language. reader discretion advised. 18+ only

Your footsteps thundered in rapid fire, rattling the whole damn staircase. From porch to back deck, anyone in the Kirsteins’ chalet could hear you coming. And they did.

If they had to bet on where—or to whom—you were missiling toward, the odds would be disproportionately in their favor.

“Here we go again,” Connie muttered. He reached for the six-pack he had just carried inside and cracked open his first beer of the day.

The rest of your friends, all four of them, put their heads down—not to be confused with inattention. It was a spectacle the same way a car wreck was a spectacle, something they didn’t want to witness directly but held their attention just enough.

The fifth, your not-friend, sighed. Like everyone else, he anticipated you rushing here in your hot fury. The only difference was he knew he was the target.

The pitter-patter of your feet echoed through the hall. The tile felt icy beneath you, your skin still shower-hot and sweltering with vexation.

“What the hell is your problem?” you roared as you rounded the corner. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”

Eren, your not friend who arguably wasn’t worth referring to by name, scoffed. You were baiting him, he knew that. Even so, he wasn’t above getting swept up in some senseless arguing. In fact, he would be hard-pressed to pass it up.

You were making a much bigger deal than he thought necessary. You were actually making an entire show of it, he thought, marching right up to him like you were any more intimidating than a mouse.

He only loured down at you, already bored of your antics. “Haven’t you ever heard of locking the door?”

If it wasn’t clear by this point, Eren had walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and God, you could kill him for it.

Not long ago, you were one of the first guests to arrive for your week-long getaway. Jean stood in the doorway to his family’s vacation home and ushered you and Mikasa aside. He gave you a tour of the place, showing you the room the two of you would share. Then, he pointed you to the bathroom; you were in desperate need of a shower to liven up after the car ride.

The running water drowned out the shudder of the front door and the boisterous greetings between everyone downstairs. You didn’t know anyone else had even arrived. You were contented, properly warmed from the outdoors, and humming as you stepped out of the shower, taking in the chic stone-clad bathroom.

You didn’t recognize the click of the door when you should have. You were standing there, towel-dried and as bare as could be, and everything that came next happened in a blurry blink of an eye.

It remained indiscernible which happened first: your horror-movie-worthy shriek—because as much as you didn’t want Eren to see you naked, he startled you even more—or his brief, “Shit. Sorry.” Either way, it happened, but why of all people did it have to be him?

Thankfully, he shut the door just as quickly, leaving you to contemplate if the snow would cushion your jump out the window to escape.

In total, it took less than an hour for you to regret your choice to come.

“I already said I was sorry. What more do you want?” Eren chided. “It was an accident.”

“Yeah, right. You knew it’d make me mad, that’s why you did it,” you snapped.

Eren snorted like you were being ridiculous. “Do you try to find reasons to be pissed off all the time, or are you just like that?”

“That’s you, not me.”

“Only because of you.”

Mikasa wedged herself between you and Eren like she had before. It hadn’t happened many times, but more than you would have liked. Enough that you could no longer count it on your fingers.

“Cut it out already!” Her glare shifted from you to Eren, making it loud and clear the message was for both of you.

Before either of you could say anything for yourselves, Jean threw himself into the mix next. “Would it kill you to play nice for a week?”

“For me?” Mikasa pitched her voice higher, sweeter, and her eyes were soft.

She was the only reason you were here. Her birthday was two days away, and Jean volunteered to host the celebration. You were surprised he extended the invitation; you were friends only through Mikasa. But she insisted it wouldn’t be her birthday without all her friends. So, as her very best one, you agreed to it with a big, fake smile and gritted teeth.

Now that you were here, you couldn’t leave even if you wanted to; Mikasa drove.

After a day spent traveling, it wasn’t exactly the celebratory first night everyone expected, but no one complained. By the time a movie was settled on, Armin had already gone to bed upstairs, and Sasha passed out not long after. And by the look of it, Connie would be next, having made himself comfortable against her shoulder.

But that was boring. And out of everything Eren could do then—his options were limited—sleeping sounded the least appealing, even when compared to chatting you up.

He only considered it because Mikasa had pulled him aside earlier. She ‘strongly advised’ him to be the bigger person, if not for her than for the sake of enjoying the rest of the week.

So when Eren noticed you alone in the kitchen, he figured it was as good a time as ever to try and bandage the bridge. Mikasa only asked him to try, so the outcome didn’t matter much to him. Whatever way you reacted, good or bad or ugly, at the very least, it would be more entertaining than this movie.

“Hey.”

Your eyes followed the voice until you found Eren stopped in the doorway. You felt your brows furrow, your tone cautious and curt when you replied, “Hi.”

He took it as an opening to join you in the kitchen, but you were sure you didn’t mean it as an invitation.

You bristled. “What do you want?”

He pulled a face but was otherwise unbothered. “What? I can’t say hello?”

“No, you can’t.”

Eren rolled his eyes. “Fine. What about a peace offering?”

You surveyed him, suspicious. Whatever he was offering, you didn’t trust it.

“I don’t need your olive branch,” you snubbed.

“Who said anything about olives?”

It sounded as if he really meant it, which only furthered your point.

You sidestepped him to leave.

Eren stopped himself short of catching you by the wrist. That wouldn’t help anything. But he did call for you in a sort of whisper-shout, just loud enough to grab your attention. He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled himself together, for Mikasa.

“We got off on the wrong foot. I’m trying to fix that,” he told you. He reached into his pocket and showed you his palm. In it, a decent enough joint. “Okay?”

Right then, you would have done just about anything to relax—almost anything. The solution to your frustration was right in front of you. The only problem was that he was also the source of it.

“I don’t know,” you hesitated. “Jean seemed pretty adamant about the no smoking rule.”

That wasn’t a lie. It was one of the very few rules he had mentioned upon arrival.

“Oh, fuck Jean. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Eren ticked his head toward the stairs. “We’ll head up to the attic. I’ll even open a window if you’re that worried.”

You could get snippy with him over the attitude, but you bit your tongue. He was being sensible for once, so you ought to do the same—at least until he gave you a reason to snap that figurative olive branch in half.

“Okay,” you sighed. “Lead the way.”

On the way upstairs, you checked on your friends only to find them exactly where you had left them. It was your second house tour that day as Eren took you further than Jean did, to the very end of the hallway.

What you would expect to be a linen closet, Eren opened to reveal another set of stairs. You trailed behind him, unwilling to be the first to blindly wander into a dark attic. But after Eren flicked on a lamp, you realized it was far from the forgotten crawl space you had imagined.

Jean's family must have recently refurbished the room. It looked half-baked, still in the works of becoming a completed guest room, but it hadn't lost its old-time feeling yet, painted sepia in the lamp's light. There was a bed, neatly made but sitting frameless on the carpet. The ceiling slanted to the left, and if you wanted to pick a book from the built-in shelves, you’d have to crouch.

Across from you, on the other side of the little room, Eren pushed open the window. The night greeted you with a gust of winter air. You hugged yourself in a weak attempt to stay warm, considering you were dressed for cozying up by a fireplace.

“How did you know this was up here?” you asked.

“I’ve been here a few times over the years.” Eren plopped onto the floor and retrieved the joint. He was looking down, not speaking to you directly as he answered. “Had plenty of time to do some exploring.”

The house creaked with the wind. The sound of groaning wood sounded angry from up here. You rooted your feet in place.

“I didn’t have a lighter, but I did find this.”

As he said it, Eren revealed a candle lighter, likely pocketed from another one of his ‘explorations.’ He waved it around, and the flexible end flopped from side to side. He cracked a small smile, and you did the same, and you didn’t know what to make of it.

You watched him place the joint between his lips. He held it there, trying to align the flame with its end. He overshot it at first, then had to squeeze an eye shut to focus his vision. You lightly snickered.

“Don’t laugh,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

Once the joint caught, Eren took it with two fingers and set the lighter aside. He pulled a long drag and held it in even longer. He looked at you again, waiting on you, whether you were just going to stand there and watch or not.

You sat near the window, cross-legged and opposite him. He handed you the joint on his exhale, aimed only slightly toward the sliver of open window.

You took a hit, and it burned a little. You stifled your cough as you leaned to blow the smoke outside.

The snow was shimmery in the moonlight, still as fresh as it was when you first arrived, blanketing the ground and weighing down the wobbly tree branches.

You finally coughed then, interrupting the thought. You hid your face in your elbow as you passed the joint back to Eren. He plucked it from your hand, not bothering to comment on your cough or the tears welling in your eyes.

After another hit or two, you began to blink slower. You noticed a heaviness in your eyelids, like you were suddenly made aware of their existence. You let your high settle in, propping yourself up on your palms and relaxing back. You admired the painterly night again, the snow even brighter than it was minutes ago.

Lost in his own high, Eren’s defenses were down. It took him by surprise when he looked at you and felt… something.

What happened earlier threw off the whole dynamic between you, at least when it came to his side of things. Truthfully, he had no idea what to think anymore.

Honest to god, you really pissed him off sometimes. And yeah, you being Mikasa’s best friend made his life exponentially harder. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t think about you, that he couldn’t look at you.

Eren’s eyes wandered absentmindedly. You were still agaze at the window, unaware that he stupidly couldn’t stop staring at your chest. Your tank top was distracting, your nipples pert from the cold and consuming what remained of his dwindling attention span. Whether it was right of him or not, he found thinking about earlier, trying to piece together his fuzzy memory of what you looked like beneath the thin fabric.

Consider it a temporary lapse in judgment, but maybe what pissed Eren off the most about you was that he wanted to sleep with you—after your uptight, bratty personality, of course. But that would be easy enough to fuck out of you, if you let him.

Hey, everyone wanted the two of you to get along, right? This would be more than doing what was asked of him, though he wasn’t sure he’d play nice.

Eren came to when the roach burned his fingers. He tossed it out the window with a hiss.

You noticed his proximity then. It wasn’t intimate; it was more innocent than that. The kind of closeness shared between friends, despite that you were anything but.

You looked down at his hand resting beside yours and wondered, if you were to touch him, how would his hand feel right then? Placed atop his, would it warm you from the creeping night breeze?

Or perhaps the better question was, why did you want to know—want to touch?

Heat radiated from the nape of your neck, and it unnerved you.

It was as if all the edges about you, your prickliness around Eren, had been buffed smooth. When you would normally recoil, you only sat still as he tilted into you. You were stuck in a daze, and in that daze, you could only focus on his eyes, lidded and a little glassy but pretty. Had they always looked like that—that pretty?

“You’ve been on my mind a lot lately,” he told you, but it wasn’t a confession. He said it unabashedly, looking you straight in the face. “For obvious reasons.”

You almost fell for it. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was your and Eren’s turbulent history, but you couldn’t help but laugh. You did your best to keep it short, teasing, “What? I didn’t get you all hot and bothered, did I?”

You waited for him to laugh, for him to admit he was fucking with you, but his expression was steadfast. His eyes didn’t waver from yours except to look at your lips.

“Something like that.”

If you thought your heart was thumping hard before, you were now convinced you might throw it up. You wanted to blame it on frustration, considering he was still thinking about that, but you weren’t sure the feeling was there anymore.

Eren closed in on you like he wanted to whisper a secret. He stalled momentarily, giving you the chance to shove him away. You didn’t.

“I can’t stop thinking about you.”

You felt his words vibrate against your ear.

“How pretty you looked.” His head dipped slightly, lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck as he murmured, “How soft you must feel.” He pressed a kiss there, below your ear, but you felt it tingle in your toes. “How good you must taste.”

Your head, once buzzing and light, went heavy. Eren’s hand curved around the back of your neck, allowing him to do exactly what he said he wanted: to taste you. With wetted lips and softly grazing teeth, he savored every exposed inch of your throat.

You mustered what resolve you had left and cleared your throat. “I thought you said I pissed you off.”

You surprised yourself with how poised you sounded, but Eren kept it together just as well.

“You do,” Eren said plainly, even as he continued to feast on your neck, and you continued to let him. “But you also happen to turn me on just as much.”

He punctuated the sentence with a lick of his tongue, trailing up to the hollow behind your ear before he nibbled at the lobe. A shiver ran through your spine, and his hands traced along its path. His fingers tickled at the bare skin of your lower back but didn’t dare any further. He idly kissed at your neck, patiently waiting to see what you had to say next—if you could still speak, that is.

You felt his lips peck your jaw, then the side of your face, but never your lips; he only ghosted over them. As you moved in to meet him, he pulled back with this smirk like you had fallen right into his trap.

“You have to tell me,” he said through that same grin.

Your eyebrows pinched together. “Tell you what?”

He sat back even further. “If you want me to kiss you.”

You tipped your head in that ‘you can’t be serious’ sort of way, pointedly glaring at him.

“It’s not my fault you’re giving me mixed signals,” he said airily. “An hour ago, you would have said you hated my guts.”

“Still do,” you muttered.

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

You couldn’t put your finger on him. Was he only confident because he knew you’d never say the words? If you were to ask him to kiss you, would it shock him enough that his tough-guy act would finally crumble? If you were to admit you wanted this, would he admit he wanted it just as badly?

No, you’d bet he wanted this even more. After all, he was the one to initiate this.

A frisson skipped through you. You pushed yourself onto all fours, leaning into him with the heels of your hands digging into the carpet. You licked your lips in anticipation, telling him, “Kiss me.”

Then, for the first time possibly ever, Eren listened to you.

You couldn’t say why you did it, only that you wanted to. You wanted to know how his lips felt when they weren’t against your neck but slotted between your own. You discovered a surprising softness as he kissed you back, so unlike his usual abrasive self.

The feeling whirring in your chest wasn’t the one you expected. You thought there would be resentment, that you might finally come to your senses. And if that didn’t happen, then the least you expected was confusion; that would make sense. But you only felt satisfaction. Satisfaction, but only filled ninety-nine percent to the brim. That last one percent was nagging at you. It kept you chasing.

At some point—you didn’t know how much time had passed—you realized you had forgotten to breathe. Eren caught your chin when you pulled away. Shallow breaths trembled on your lips. Your eyes flitted across his face as you waited for reality to sink in, but it never did.

“Kiss me again,” you mumbled.

When he did, the kiss changed, and neither of you had the wherewithal to consider the consequences of it.

Restraint slipped through your fingers, but there was no use in trying to collect it. You could taste the need on each other's lips, just as potent as the smoke on your tongues as you moved yours against his.

Eren placed a hand at your waist and pulled you in. He was forceful enough that you had no choice but to collapse onto him. Neither of you minded the thud.

You had him pinned between your legs, your hands on either side of his face as you continued making out, your lips never disconnecting once.

Your fingers slid higher until they were beneath his head and tangled in his hair. He had you by your hips, tugging you down until you were fully against him. You felt him, how hard he was, as he rolled you over him. Through layers of clothing, you let him drag you over his length. Your panties pressed against your cunt, reminding you just how wet you were for him.

When Eren let go of you, you continued grinding down onto him all on your own. You were aching, throbbing, and trying to choke back whimpers as your kissing turned sloppy.

He practically had to swallow a whine of his own when his hands pushed between you to latch onto your breasts. He yanked down the hem of your top, revealing your bare tits to him for the second time that day.

Remember, you were still high; every touch, every sensation, had been dialed up to a ten. The air in the tiny attic grew chillier by the minute. You shivered hard when Eren groped at your breasts, tossed your head back with a gasp when he thumbed over your sensitive nipples.

He was a bit dumb to anything but the pair of tits, your lovely tits, shoved in his face. He brought his mouth to your chest, just his lips at first, kissing wherever he could before closing them around your nipple.

His mouth was hot against your skin, his tongue flicking and circling your nipple before sucking lightly. Harder once you bore your cunt down on him harder, clearly getting off on the feeling.

Still unsatisfied, you straightened out, pawing at your top until you could throw it over your head. The room felt even colder without your shirt, without the heat of his mouth. Even in that brief second, you missed it.

Eren missed it, too, boyishly wanting to return to playing with your tits, freed and there for him to openly admire. It was pathetic, how maddeningly he wanted you, even as you quite literally looked down on him, perched with your hands flattened against his chest. He felt surrendered to you.

You tilted your head and asked, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You sounded a bit breathless, not nearly as pointed as you intended.

His hand slid up the curve of your side, his gaze rising from your chest to meet your eye.

“You look good,” he said bluntly. “You’re really turning me on right now.”

Instantly, you felt your blood run hot, your cheeks all feverish.

“Oh, whatever,” you dismissed with a click of your tongue.

“You asked.”

You jokingly slid your hand to the base of his neck like you wanted to keep him quiet. Instantly, he stiffened beneath you, not his cock but his entire body—though you did feel that twitch, too.

You moved your hand higher and grinned when you felt his Adam’s apple roll beneath your grasp. It was a moment you could only describe as a short-circuit—not just for Eren but for you. Your mind blanked to anything but him, exactly like this. How good he looked beneath you.

You bent to kiss him. His mouth opened for you to lick into, groaning when you started to work your hips again.

The feeling of your clothed cunt rubbing against him, your hold on his throat tightening as your weight shifted forward, had his cock straining in his sweatpants, almost painfully so. He tried to hold back, hands clutching your thighs like he could ground himself, but he shamefully couldn’t stop himself from rutting up into you.

You drew back, separating an inch, but your hips didn’t relent. You washed his jaw slack at the push and pull of pressure over his cock. You scanned over his face, from his low-lidded eyes to his lips, slightly parted and glistening from your kiss.

Saliva pooled behind your front teeth. You couldn’t say why you did it—or what compelled Eren to go along with it—but you grabbed his face and lined your mouth with his. His lips parted further like he knew what was coming. The very corners of them pinched into a grin, slight but undoubtedly wicked.

A long string connected your lips to his tongue. Before it could snap, you kissed it into his mouth, and he welcomed it with a perverse groan.

“Bed,” he muttered between swapped kisses.

It wasn’t a question, but you nodded in agreement anyway.

Eren sat upright and took you with him. He slid his hands beneath you, carrying you to the bed—if ‘carrying’ was the right word for it. He trudged to the bed, knee-walking with you clumsily wrapped around him.

He dropped you first, then fell at your side. The old mattress springs squeaked under your desperate movements.

Eren kissed you deeply, his tongue slipping into your mouth the same way his hand slipped down the front of your pajama pants. Your legs spread on instinct, making room for his hand to close over you. Even with your underwear in the way, his touch made your stomach flutter.

Your panties quickly became an annoying obstacle. The soaked fabric slid around with little friction as he rubbed your pussy, only making it harder for him to touch you properly. He pushed them aside and let his middle finger run along your slit, then promptly pumped it inside you.

Your moan was smothered by your lips smushed to his. You struggled to kiss him back, mouth stuttering as he added a second finger inside you. Your walls pulsed around the intrusion, having little time to adjust to his thick fingers stretching you. But as he curled his fingers toward your navel, rubbing the pads of them against that erogenous spot, your muscles slacked. Your entire body gave into him.

With his fingers rightly slick, Eren returned to circling your clit. He teased you, touching you only enough to keep you bleary, riding out your pleasure but never reaching the destination.

You bunched his shirt in your fist, tugging and vaguely trying to get it off him.

“Take it off,” you demanded in a wet mumble against his mouth.

Again, Eren did as he was told. You used the opportunity to wiggle out of your sweatpants.

You trailed a hand down his stomach, felt the ungiving muscles, and followed the soft hair leading below his waistband. His cock throbbed in your hand as you started stroking him slowly, thumbing over the tip and spreading his precome down his shaft.

Eren shimmied your panties halfway down your thighs and shoved his hand back between your legs. His pumping fingers were attuned to your hand movements, fucking you at the pace he fucked your fist. His thumb pressed down on your clit, sparking a fire that spread through your lower half.

You no longer minded the open window or its breeze; the attic had grown heady, the air between you thickening with every humid breath you exchanged. You nearly couldn’t breathe right then, but there was only one thing you could think about.

More. You needed more.

You weren’t in the mood for needless foreplay; you wanted to have him inside you.

You grabbed his wrist.

“Fuck,” you panted. “Just fuck me already.”

A biting smile crossed Eren’s face.

“So demanding,” he tutted, his fingers still lazily playing with your pussy. “Can you at least say ‘please?’”

You reached for your underwear hanging at your knees and bared yourself entirely. Despite his smug words, he followed suit and started removing his sweatpants.

You laid back and retorted, “I’d choke you right now, but I think you might like that.”

You looked comfortable, but Eren didn’t hesitate to flip you onto your stomach. He splayed a hand in the middle of your back, shoving you into the pillows.

He kicked off his sweatpants and boxers at once, sitting back on his calves and settling between your legs.

“You’re probably right,” he said casually.

Eren raised you by your hips. He licked his fingers—tasted you on them—and smoothed them over your cunt, already messy with your arousal. You held your breath in anticipation, quivering when you felt the head of his cock meet your entrance. But it only lasted a second before he pushed inside you to the hilt, even tugging back on your hips to ensure it. You could practically feel him in your stomach.

You whined loudly. Eren predicted as much, considering you were always whiny. The pillow did its job and muffled you well enough.

But what he didn’t predict was how fucking good you would feel around his cock.

“God damn,” he rasped on a drawn-out grunt. His eyes screwed shut, a shudder wracked through him, and he was very thankful you couldn’t see him right then.

Eren never imagined this happening, let alone imagined how you might feel—until today. Even then, he never dreamed of how much he’d actually enjoy it.

He smoothed his hands up and down your sides, taking a full second to gather some semblance of composure. Your skin was balmy, yet his touch scattered goosebumps along the backs of your arms.

He swallowed thick as he started to move, slowly dragging his cock in and out, testing you, before setting a proper pace, as he’d call it.

You wrung the sheets in your hands, lifting your head to find your breath as Eren drove into you from behind. Every thrust of his was punctuated by your little pants of ‘yes, yes, yes,’ as he kept you pinned to the bed with bruising strength.

You were rapt on the feeling, how full you were, as your cunt flexed, desperately trying to accommodate him. It was a lot, you could only bite your knuckle to quiet your cries, but you’d be damned to say you didn’t just love it.

Grunts, raw and tight in his throat, slipped past his teeth as he watched you twitch around his cock. He was surprised by you, listening to your mewls grow more incoherent, more guttural, the harder he fucked you. How your pussy gripped him perfectly, like you were sucking him in for more after he had bullied his way inside you.

Eren was right. Maybe all you needed was a good, hard fuck.

“You like that, huh?” he asked, holding you down still, having his way with you.

You ignored him and focused on your imminent orgasm.

You felt his hand curve around your face, his fingers pushing past your lips. You tried to close your mouth around them, but he hooked your cheek.

“I can’t hear you.”

He spoke it like an order, and you were feeling defiant.

You reached for his hand, pulling his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop. You angled your neck to try and get a look at him.

“That all you got?” In spite of the gasps between your words, you smiled provokingly. “Fuck me like you mean it.”

You couldn’t resist goading him, that would go against your nature. But you were quickly made aware of what you signed up for once Eren threw you onto your back, staring down at you with darkened eyes. You had successfully gotten under his skin, feverish and slightly sheened with sweat because he had been fucking you like he meant it.

You were talking a big game for someone with dried tears streaking her cheeks—with fresh ones spilling as he rammed back inside you. But if you wanted him to ruin you, then that was what you were going to get. He just wanted to see the fucked-out face you’d make when he had you coming on his cock.

Eren took hold of your jaw, tilting it so he could lick the pretty tear on your cheekbone. He could already see every spot he bit and sucked along your neck and chest, every scathing mark blooming beneath your skin that you’d have to explain away tomorrow.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he told you.

Your legs felt comparable to gelatin, but you managed the feat anyway. You locked your ankles against the small of his back, clinging to him, racking your nails down the taut muscles of his back as he pounded into you. His pelvis collided again and again against your swollen cunt, the brutal sound filling the attic.

“Fuck, just like that.” Your eyes fluttered shut. “Don’t stop.”

The iron-hot coil in your stomach had been winding tighter and tighter since you first kissed Eren. Now, it was straining, begging to snap. You thoughtlessly snaked a hand between your legs, needily rubbing your clit

“C’mon,” he urged you, even pleading your name. “Come on me. Please.”

The sudden need in Eren’s voice had you taken aback, tearing you from your ledge until your orgasm harshly fell over you.

Your entire body trembled. You could only whisper a tiny, “Coming,” as the rest of the words hitched in your throat.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Eren said through ragged breaths, fucking you through it. “There you go, come all over my cock.”

Your legs were shaking so badly they had dropped from his waist. The aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you; Eren could feel every one of them.

“Shit, I’m gonna—” His unrelenting pace began to dissolve. “Can I—fuck, where should I—”

“Anywhere,” you interrupted. You were too far gone to care.

Your body went limp and lazy as Eren pulled out of you. He straightened out and sat forward on his knees. His cock dripped with your come; you could hear the slick sound as he jerked himself off above you.

His pants turned into short huffs through his nose. He squeezed the sensitive tip of his cock, cursing to himself as he let his head fall back. With a final clench of his sore abdominals, he came, hard.

If you were to ask, Eren would tell you he tried to come on your tits, but really, he wanted to come on your face—you know, create a snapshot memory for the inevitable next time you pissed him off. He managed to do a little bit of both.

You winced when you felt the warmth of it hit your chin, your nose, and even as high as your cheek, with the last spurts painting your chest.

Spent, Eren leaned forward, catching himself with a hand planted near your head. You watched his heaving chest, staying so very still as you grumbled, “Really?”

“You said anywhere,” he said through heavy breaths. Once they settled, he reached for a blanket and started wiping your face.

You swatted him away, bemoaning, “You can’t just use one of their blankets, Eren!”

There you were again, already yapping at him. At least he didn't have to worry about things being weird between you.

“What do you want me to use? Your shirt?” He ignored your protests and began cleaning you again. “I’m sure they have a laundry machine here. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.”

Eren glanced you over, then wiped another spot near your collarbone. He inspected his work again, looking down at you with eyes that weren’t so dark anymore. Once he deemed you as clean as you were going to get, he petted over your hair once.

There was a pause as you blinked up at him. “We’re not going to bring this up again, right?”

“Nope,” Eren said as he started get up. “Just get dressed.”

You didn’t move, following him with just your eyes as he started to step into his boxers. You bit your lip in thought, then threw caution to the wind as you blurted out, “But if we were to do this again—just this week, I mean—”

He peered at you from over his shoulder. “Then you know where the attic is now.”

You shared a long look, nodded, then prepared to head to your separate rooms for the night to pretend you had long fallen asleep.

as always, thank you for reading ♡

#eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren smut #aot x reader

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pedge-page · 5 months

Text

Insatiable

Part 3/Finale to Cravings and Crash

Frankie Morales x F!Reader

Summary: Frankie and reader spend some time apart before realizing that’s actually really stupid—and solid communication happens for once :)

Notes: it’s finally HERE! Thank you all so much again for your words of praise and keeping with these two absolute idiots in love. Honestly intended the first one to just be a one-off drabble throw away thought, but I’m glad everyone enjoyed it so much to ask for more! I’m spitting this out earlier than expected. Don’t know if I’ve done them reasonable justice but this is what I’ve got—hope you like it!

Warnings: unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, creampies, mentions of m oral, pussy eating king returns, cum eating, missionary, doggy, cowgirl, overstimulation, fingering, squirting, bit of possessive and jealous Frankie, mentions of drug use, drugs present, language

18+ ONLY

- - - -

You had cried when you got in your car. And again when you went to your cousin’s house to crash until you signed your new lease. And then again every night for a week straight.

You had NEVER cried this hard over a boy before.

Except this wasn't some boy—this was Frankie. The guy who comforted you through all your dates that stood you up, and shitty boyfriends, albeit few, that left you feeling less than worthwhile. The same Frankie who stood around you like a guard dog when you went drinking together so no one would even think to slip something in your cup, but who YOU have to comfort during horror movies because he's a big scared kitten. Who lets you sleep on his shoulder for five hours in the car no matter how uncomfortable it was for him, never once moving, but still ate the food you didn't like off your plate "because he's a garbage dump who'd eat anything, even mold."

The first guy to tell you that you were beautiful when you weren't even trying to impress him. Who brings a hair tie with him when you go to eat because you always forget yours and get your hair caught in your fork. Who pushed you to take charge of your life and break up with your loser first love, and it was the hardest and best decision you could have ever made.

And you know what? The ONLY guy who made you cum 9 fucking times the FIRST time he went down on you.

You called Santi that night because you needed to let loose, and the only other person you trusted to hold you up outside of Frankie was Pope.

“So how is he?” Santi asked, as you immediately double fisted your first two shots.

"I don't wanna talk about him tonight."

Santi nods, eyes widening as you don’t even resist the bitter taste going down your throat. He holds his finger up towards the waitress to order 4 more glasses.

You really didn't want to think about Frankie. The more you thought about him, the more confused you felt, and you couldn't afford to be confused about your purpose in his life right now. You knew battling addiction isn’t a linear healing process. That it would get worse before it got better at times. You're his friend. You're helping him. That's it.

Frankie spent a whole year being physically intimate with you, but never once asked or made a move for anything more emotionally. So why let yourself get carried away even thinking about something more?

To even consider if you wanted more...

You snatch the shot glass out of Santi's hand right before he was about to sip it and catapulted it down your throat, the burning sensation taking your mind out of the gutter.

Fuck Frankie for not keeping his shit together. Fuck him for being hot and cold. Fuck him for using you when that's exactly what you’re here for.

It's much easier to keep it all that way. Easy to encourage him with sex to avoid overthinking his intentions. Easier to constantly verbalize it, knowing he won’t deny it, as a means of reassurance to yourself.

But absolutely fucking HELL he’s being so difficult lately. The sex—wasn’t just good. It was fucking phenomenal. you could physically see how much better he was just moments afterwards, even if you were blacking out and falling asleep not too long after. He was so hungry for it too, why deny? But he’d been holding back too much now—getting too tense, crashing, then stressed again. You needed to get things back on schedule with him so he’d be happy again.

And gentle, nurturing, innocent, sober you just wasn't doing the trick for him anymore.

You barely hear Santi over the pounding in your head: "When we was the last time you got laid? You need a distraction from your Fix-a-Fish hobby."

You gulp down the last of the vodka on the table, suppressing a slight burp.

"I'm 'bout to do both tonight."

That was 4 weeks ago. You didn’t achieve either that night.

Fish didn't seem too upset when you left, ultimately making the choice much easier. You looked so fucking stupid walking in there, basically demanding sex from him when he made it clear all year that you were only there for HIM and not the other way around. He didn’t want you like that.

Good. Makes staying friends that much easier.

Or it did, for a little while.

You couldn’t get over the way he made you feel when all was well—when he’d serenade you so easily in affection like Querida, Carino, Hermosa, and you could barely contain the butterflies in your stomach each time. You had never once heard him even refer to his dates or ex girlfriends in the same manner. It was both confusing and arousing. He treated you like a best friend some times, but adored you like a lover more.

Hadn’t the man heard of friendship boundaries? Aside from the fact he made you orgasm every minute of the day, what was Frankie like as a lover? What more could he possibly do to cross that line?

Who the hell treats their friend like that?

That last month, however, felt more realistic. Grounded in the truth of your relation. You didn’t realize how much he had gotten to you with sweet words first that made the change in his attitude so unbearable.

You wanted to go back to being selfish with his unbridled love.

You hadn’t gotten off in over a week, a new record. But as you lay in bed, conjuring any and all pornos, audio eroticas, pillows, aching fingers, even the dusty vibrator still wrapped in its new plastic, nothing was getting you to that same addictive feeling that Frankie gave you every single day.

You should have called him to return his shirt you had accidentally packed in your bag in a haste to get out of there. But it still smelled like him. You felt perverted getting wet just by holding it in your hands, but it was doing the trick, and finally you could touch yourself without additional lubricant assistance.

All the memories that tumbled from then on only made the ache between your legs worse: The first night, Frankie between your legs, begging you to let go so he could force more orgasms from your shaking body. “Doing s’good for me, cariño. Give me more, fucking starving” ; when he held you in his lap as you grind down on his bulge, his head buried under his shirt that you were wearing as his lapped at your nipples, “Don’t you dare hold back those beautiful moans, wanna hear you singing when I’m devouring you”; when he’d come home from work and didn’t say a word, just grabbed your wrist and lead you to his bedroom, lied on the bed, slapped your ass a few times to get you to straddle him higher, higher, until you were right over his lips. He didn’t even wait for your hesitation, immediately bringing your hips down and crashing his lips on your pussy, shaking his head like a mad scientist at work, hell bent on discovering what makes you cry faster.

You pulled your fingers away from your slick cunt. No amount of memory would compare to the real thing—and it wasn’t all the acts that you needed, but the intimacy, the familiarity that came from Frankie—THAT’S what always sent you over the edge.

It scared you.

Santi was half right. You did need to get laid. Needed someone who wasn’t Frankie to remind you that you don’t rely on him for some shit like getting off (although you had developed a keen preference by now). You needed a new hobby that wasn’t thinking about Frankie all the time. YOU needed a distraction.

He was half wrong, however, because you knew very well that you’d be drowning in lame date after lame lay a million times before you got over the addictive feeling of being around Fish this past year.

It never felt like a chore. Well, obviously, you were getting ate out like a Sunday brunch. But it was everything else that made you want to keep staying around, even after he maybe didn’t need you anymore.

You realized then that leaving was the best for you and him. You had somehow managed to score a date tonight, the first one in over a year, with a James. Or Jonathan. Or Jimmy. Something J. I think.

I’m excited. I’m going on a date. I’m going to have fun. I’m excited. Im going on a date. Im going to have fun.

You didn’t even have the care to shave tonight before you begrudgingly left for dinner and a movie.

He couldn't say it then. Frankie remembered so vividly the image that he wishes he could forget: you standing there, so meek and vulnerable, spilling your tears as you tried to level your emotions with your feelings and confront the fucked up situation he put you in. Maybe if you had screamed, yelled at him and cussed him out for being such a dick, then he could have told you how he truly felt.

He was always better at being shouted at by others from being in the service. The guys would let their tempers soar and just shout, honesty tumbling through like a flood, and then everything would be out on the table, and shit would get DONE.

The apartment is unforgivably quiet and cold.

He's noticing little things you left behind: your nice moisturizer, expensive shampoo, a paper towel holder. He thinks you’re mocking him by leaving bits of you around his place, so he collects them in a bin and waits for you to come retrieve them. But you don't contact him for the first week.

He starts to think maybe you left those things for him. You bought all these things while you were here, forcing him to use them with you:

"Your face is as dry as a desert; you need moisturizer, not body lotion.”

"You can't use a 4 in one hair and body wash!"

"Who the fuck doesn't have a holder for their paper towels?"

It wasn't all just sex when you were here. He remembered coming in to the bathroom when your feet were soaking in the tub, and you explained you were rubbing your calluses off your feet. He joined you, sweats pulled up above his knee as you held him down to get the stone on his crusty feet, the whole time laughing and squirming because it tickled too much. He fell on his ass in the tub desperate to escape your strangely strong grip around his ankle, getting his clothes all wet.

And despite how well he had known you even before your arrangement, he continued to learn new things about you. Like you took night showers, and could only go to bed with your hair in braid. He'd come to see you, agitated in his room all morning, waiting for you to finally wake up so he could distract his craving. He’d walk into the kitchen where you were already cooking him breakfast, slip his arms around your hip, and pull your braids out lovingly to smell scent of your shampoo waft off in waves, closing his eyes and feeling his jitters dissipate, instantly calming him like no other remedy.

Found it funny that you couldn’t use a regular spoon for cereal, always replacing it with a tea spoon because the other ones are “too big” for your mouth to fully close around. A sentiment he suspected to be a load of BS when you had no problem swallowing his cock whole and then gulping down his cum without spilling a drop.

Or when you got red sauce all over the laundry and had to borrow Frankie's shirt to sleep in. He liked that you smelled like him, that it draped over you so pretty, and you'd never wear pants underneath. He'd put you in his lap and make you hold the shirt up with your teeth, showing off your perky tits. His thumb circled your hip bone, large hand clasping your waist to keep you upright while he'd kiss your nipples, and then make you both look down and watch as he rubbed his fingers through your folds, sucking the juices off as he finger fucked you over top him.

He can't help but feel his twitch of his cock stir in his pants at the thought.

Ok. Maybe the sexual parts were a big part—how could they not be? That’s all it was, at first. And he was able to pretend like it was too. But the more time he spent with you. The more time he got to really know you, live with you, breathe you in, unravel you and bind him to you so that you had no sanctuary untouched by him, it was all over before it began.

He sat down with Pope a week after you left:

“You look like shit.”

Frankie grumbled, shrugging it off. He hadn’t slept, hadn’t eaten like he used to when you were around. His beard was growing in more patchy and less manicured than before.

“Have you talked to her since?”

“Don’t wanna talk about her tonight.”

Jesus, a broken record with these two, Santi thought. But he knew Fish much better, knew the exact reason why he called him out instead of all the boys together is precisely because he needed to get this off his chest. “She thought you were stressed, needed time. Clearly she was right.”

Frankie’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding so hard that he could form diamonds.

Santi cleared his throat, twirling the ice in his glass casually. “Course, I didn’t tell her you’re head over heels in love with her. Why didn’t you?”

He doesn’t deny it. Doesn’t think he could again. “Imagine how that would have gone? She was crying right there. Right in front of me, BECAUSE of me, after I’d treated her like shit for weeks until her breaking point. Would have given her some fucked up idea that that was my expression of loving her. If I’d said it then, she would never have believed me. Would have ruined everything. Including our friendship.” He pauses, staring down at his rough hands. “She deserves better,” he said weakly, more to convince himself than anyone else.

Santi leans back against the booth. He’d heard the Frankie pity train before, but this was much lower than usual. “And friendship is still good enough for you?”

“I’ll take whatever she’ll give me at this point. I can’t lose her.”

“You can’t? Or don’t want to?”

Frankie thought about that for a while. He had realized too late he didn’t actually still need you. He hadn’t really “craved” cocaine like before. He no longer needed you tending to his every reaction, overly serving his necessities and desires, always a few steps away to brighten his smile, or warm the house with your laughter, your cooking, your terrible taste in movies, all for the sake of keeping him sane and sober.

But damn it all, he still wanted you.

Frankie goes 4 weeks of the hardest withdrawal of his life. You were right, he was getting better at not thinking about cocaine. But without you here, he's more agitated than before. It's not that he craves it now, but rather craves a substitute to get him through your absence.

He's itching for his phone, for the number of his dealer he should have blocked and deleted so long ago.

He shouldn't. It would devastate you. You'd think it's your fault because you weren't here to distract him, only making the whole lie he’s been telling himself that you could still be just friends more abundantly evident. Pushing that useless tale even further, rooting it in your mind.

In truth, it is your fault that his entire happiness is now emotionally and physically tied to you, but he can't really blame you for leaving him since he's the big idiot. He had the entire year to make it right, damned be the consequences of your possible rejection.

He’s clenching his fist at his sides, debating whether to text his dealer. He doesn't even want that shit, at least not the way before. He just wants a distraction from the real aches that you've left behind.

And if he did... wouldn't you come back to him to make it right?

You’re so clear in his mind that doesn't even struggle, doesn't hesitate as he pays the money and carries the little pouch in his hands. He gets back to his apartment with vigorous haste, slamming the door behind him, and sits it on the coffee table, staring.

Even if you don't come back to him, getting just a little bit high would help take his mind off it all. He'd be able to stop thinking about you, even for just the night. Just to get some sleep.

Just to stop feeling.

He shakily tries to undo the tightly sealed bag, but few particle traces catch in his finger tips from outside the plastic, and he instantly wafts the infinitesimal scent of it on his finger tips. He stops, feeling something he's never felt before when staring down at the thing thats caused him so much trouble in his life:

Disgust.

You considered calling Frankie a million times, but how soon was too soon? Would he think you were just desperate to get ate out again? Would he deny you the second you wanted to see him, thinking it was just a booty call again? You had made some stupid choices, like going on a shitty date with a guy you weren’t even interested in, just to get over Frankie, so that you could avoid thinking about how badly you had shattered your friendship.

And going right back to being his friend, which included sharing one of your reckless decisions you make on your own, was one of them. He’d be interested in hearing about it, right?

You dial him up quickly.

You rock back and forth on your heels, unable to sit still.

The phone rings out to voicemail.

He’s never missed a phone call from you. Not even at 2am on a work night. He's never on his phone, and yet still always managed to answer your calls even if it’s on the last ring.

He's just avoiding you again. It's fine. Santi said he'll get over it eventually. That you’ve done enough worrying for him, and need to take care of yourself for a change.

You glance at the key he gave back to you, and not even a moment later, are soon slipping on shoes and heading out the door with it in hand.

You unlock the door and slowly walk in to the familiar layout of Frankie's apartment. It's entirely dark, curtains drawn save for a small crack in the shades. You call out his name tentatively, the eeriness of the place making you anxious. When you see the bathroom light on and door slightly ajar, hearing the rushing sink water running, you sigh relief.

Thank God.

You gently push open the door. "Fish?" You see him, heart skipping a beat at how much thinner, paler he looked now than before, eyes sunk from lack of sleep.

His eyes light up when he sees you, and your heart breaks at how different he looks but STILL has the brightest, softest, loving smile at you.

Your eyes drift down, smile fading, horror quickly overtaking your face at the unopened baggie of white powder sitting at the sink. And his face drops at the realization.

You take one step back, unable to close the gape in your lips, petrified. "Fish—I—holy fuck..."

You had never seen him doing it, never seen him freshly blown high from it. The closest you ever got was what the boys would tell you, or seeing the long aftermath of his crash. They were always first on the scene and quite frankly, ensured you were never the one to find in him these states. You had never been able to mentally prepare to have to handle it now.

"No—no no no! It's not, I didn’t, I didn't! Look—ok it looks like I did but I swear I haven't touched it. It’s still sealed! I’m. I'm dumping it down the toilet."

You don't trust his word, seeing as the bag is here, albeit fully wrapped up, seal unbroken like he said. But here, nonetheless. With him. In front of you with no denial that it was his.

He gets on his knees and wraps his arms around your waist. “Please don’t leave me. I didn’t want you to leave the first time…”

“And it’s taking you being high right now to admit that?!”

I’m not high, seriously. Check me.” You peer down closer, and aside from his rampant heart beating against your leg and big round eyes, there’s no trace of smell or lingering white powder anywhere on him. But you’re hesitant.

“I bought it but then realized It wasn’t what I really wanted…”

He licks his lips quickly, his brown eyes pleading up to you, biceps flexing against your ribcage.

Your chest is pounding, the encasing feeling of Frankie refusing to let you back away making you feel like a trapped rabbit.

“Please believe me,” he breathes.

"Your eyes are dilated as fuck Frankie!"

"That's because of you!"

You both hold your breath, a pregnant silence ringing in the air.

“I—I’m. Um. I meant." His eyes trail off sheepishly as a warm blush takes over his face.

He stands up, rubbing the back of his head. He can tell you’re patiently waiting for him to get over his blubbering awkwardness so he can explain properly. To find the words he’s combing his brain for. And find them he did:

"I miss you, Querida.”

He breathes slowly, time catching up and suddenly stopping.

You glance toward the bag, still fearful that he had gotten to this point while you were gone. “Frankie. I’m—I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. For your needs—“

“I don’t need you to fix me. I haven’t craved that shit for a while, still don’t even now. I just wanted you here with me.” He snatches the baggie and chucks it in the toilet, immediately flushing it.

You want to say that might not be great for the plumbing, but Frankie’s hands are on yours, holding them securely to his chest. “I just want you. I should have said it before you walked away. Should’ve said it a year ago, when I knew I didn’t want to pretend this was just some—some drug replacement.” He goes quieter. “I didn’t want this to be nothing. I thought when we had sex, maybe you’d feel the same, but you didn’t—”

“I was afraid about what would happen to you If our dynamic changed, Fish. I was worried it was just another high. So I tried to make things go back to how they were since it seemed to be working so well for you before,” you rambled. He can see the shininess in your eyes, feel how your body is no longer resisting him and instead, cradling his neck with affection, empathy, nurture, all the things he’d been depraved of for weeks. “But then it made everything worse and I didn’t know what to do—“

He cut you off, as if suddenly things didn’t line up. ”Why did you come back?"

You lick your lips, eyes unable to meet his. “Well I called, and you didn't answer. And I wanted to check up on you, and tell you... um—I mean I always tell you about… I went on a date, my first one in over a year."

Frankie's eyes blankly drift lower, down to your feet, his arms retreating. He takes an awkward step back. "How... how did it go?" He asks slowly, feeling the distance between the two of you growing again.

You throw your hands up in the air, unable to express yourself. “He was…Handsome. Funny. Charming. Paid for me, made me feel pretty, treated me real good—“

He nodded, unable to bring his eyes anywhere else but back to the back on the sink as he listened. “S’good. That’s what you deserve,” he says, jaw tensing.

“Yeah. Yeah it is what I deserve.” You pause, here goes everything. “Except the whole time, I hated the fact that he was nothing like you."

Frankie’s attention darts back to you as you cup his scruffy face in your hands. "You're irritable, and sassy, and needy and clingy, and you pout when you don't get what you want. And you don't listen to me or stop when I tell you to stop—“

A roasting fest? Now?? “OK, That's, Jesus, I get it—“

"And I love all those things about you.” You hold his gaze, feeling his breath seize in his chest. “And I miss being here. I miss waking up with you every morning, and your smug face being the last I see before I go to sleep. And it took me until after I left to realize how I actually felt about you. This whole year with you has felt like this perfect—“

"High?"

Your brows furrow shyly. “I didn’t want to put it that way, for obvious reasons. But fuck it. Yes. I don’t—I don’t wanna let that go.”

His fingers tense around your waist, almost begging you to say it, spill it out for him and don’t hold back ever again.

“You got me addicted to you, Francisco."

You aren't aware of how fast he moves, his hands grabbing your neck as he smashes his lips to yours. Your heart is beating out of your chest when he sucks every breath from you, barely separating from your lips to utter "I've waited—so long—for you—“ He hoists you up on his waist and brushes out of the bathroom with your legs wrapped securely around him, his kiss hot and full of passion the entire time. "Wanted you since you first let me have a taste of you.” He slams you on the bed, the familiarity of you two being in this exact situation settles on you. “Wanted you to want me. Want more.”

He continues to engulf your lips with his, his moans vibrating against your tongue. "I shouldn’t—“ he hastily bites your lip with a grunt “—shouldn't have pushed you away—treated you so bad.” He pauses his assault. “I was so scared you didn't want me like that. Couldn't handle pretending I could be okay with it.”

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the pounding of his heart matching yours. "Frankie, I want you."

"Good," he smiles, leaning up to remove his shirt over his shoulders. You whine at the sight. Draping himself over you, his lips never leave your body as he kisses down your chest then back to your lips. You’re unable to bring yourself to action as his body dictates both of your moves.

You feel his bulge pressing painfully against your core, eliciting an obscene moan from your throat. "Frankie—Let me take care—“

"No. Fuck no. I'm taking care of you tonight. And tomorrow, and every fuckin’ day after," he growls.

He kisses you once again but then slowly backs away. "Um, if... if you want that."

He feels your hand tangle in the hair behind his neck as you bring his face back to yours, teeth clashing for dominance. "I want it," you whisper, sucking his lower lip and biting it possessively.

His jaw hitches. “Prove it."

You unbutton your pants, taking his large hand and guiding it down your panties in haste. His digits make contact between your folds, the two of you sighing.

"Oh f-fuck. You want this, don't you?"

"Want you so bad, Frankie. It fucking hurts.”

His fingers dont leave your dripping cunt, spreading your slick around your swollen clit. His other rips your string underwear off with incredible strength. He then helps push your shirt over your head, and you immediately unclasp your bra. Frankie growls lowly at the sight of your perky breasts bouncing from their release. "Fuck, I missed these.” His mouth wraps around as much fat of your tit he could before biting, making you lurch.

“I—I’m not gonna be slow—I wanted to—“

"Jesus Fish, I don’t care, just take me!"

He plunges two of his thick digits into your soaking heat, making your back arch off the bed. He takes the opportunity to suck a nipple back into his mouth, half his body hovering over you to keep your form perfectly positioned between his mouth and fingers. They teasingly thrust in and out slowly from your hole, intentionally dragging out his torture against you. "So mean to me, baby." His teeth nip at your nipple with a smug grin. "Takin’ my sweet little pussy away from me like that. I barely touched you and you're absolutely soaked. Were you wet on your way here?"

"Frankie I haven't... haven't been able to get off in weeks."

"How long?"

You moan out loud, eyes rolling back as your brain turns to mush. Your hand tries to guide his wrist faster but he slaps it away, continuing his teasing ministrations.

"Answer me!"

"Since the last time you touched me!" You cry.

He haults his movements.

The girl who bragged about cumming an average of 6 times a day just grinding on a pillow, now telling him she hasn't been able to orgasm in a month, because of him.

Ohhhhhhh fuuuuccccckkkkkfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. “That why you went on your little date, huh?"

You nod shamefully.

"Did you fuck him?"

You whine, eyes burrowing in confusion that he still expected you have coherent thoughts while he had you in this compromising position, teetering on the brink of your much needed orgasm.

"Your date.” He repeats, his wrist slowing down entirely. “Did. You. Fuck. Him."

“No—no! I didn’t even let him kiss me goodnight. Couldn't even get wet for him, that's how bad—Frankie, fuck! please!—bad you've got me fucked up."

He speeds up his hands, satisfied with your confessions. They are thrusting perfectly in and out at record speeds as his jaw clenched around your tit, watching your eyes roll back as your first orgasm in WEEKS overwhelms you fast. You’re shaking violently, legs desperate to close but Frankie pries them open with his strong hand, continuing to dominate your cunt with his incessant fingers.

You feel something else coming as he continues to ram his wrist against you, fingers digging so deep, curling so effortlessly that you can’t stop the gush of liquid squirting out of you. “Oh shit, oh fuckfuckFUCK that’s it! That’s my girl, holy fuck yeah—yeah keep going, Cariño, so fucking good.” He continues to finger fuck you repeatedly, working you through it as your pussy continues to contract and release your spend.

You hardly have time to process your embarrassment as he's shifting below your hips, throwing your thighs over shoulder and giving your soaked pussy a longing look. Your clit twitches excitedly. Cool air is blown on it, making you fist his hair harder. He presses his large nose into you, inhaling your scent like bloodhound, growling like a man possessed at the sticky coating. "I fucking missed you, Hermosa," he groans, and his mouth latched right on to your pulsing cunt. You gasp, hands fisting his hair as he rolls your overstimulated clit with his tongue, jaw opening wide to practically swallow your pussy whole, sucking away everything you're giving him.

Whether he was talking to you or your pussy, it didn’t really matter to you. All you could process was the rough feeling of his fat tongue and scruffy face rubbing perfectly between your legs as Frankie got reacquainted with his former addiction. "FrankieFrankieFranke-ohFUCK!"

You can’t stop him, can’t even warn him as the overstimulation send you into a fit of gasps, cumming again, legs squeezing his head as painful pleasure courses through you. His upper back is littered in your scratches, the red marks raising his skin like tiger stripes.

You're struggling to catch your breath with ragged moans. He slows his licks to draw it out, letting your spasms pass. His sinful, lidded eyes have never left your face, absorbing every reaction from you, committing it to memory.

"You really have neglected this poor pussy," he teases, kissing your clit as his fingers begin to spread your glistening folds once again.

You can only nod, arms covering your face as he starts to rub the pad of his thumb on your swollen nub again. “It’s—not as good—unless it’s you.”

He grits his teeth in satisfaction. “S’okay. M’ gonna take care of you now. Gonna fuck you real soon."

You whine when he pushes his fingers back in to your tight heat.

"And then, when I’m done fucking you—We're gonna fuck again," he laughs.

You’re a bit frightened with how he’s looking at you: like he’s fucking possessed by a hungry, malicious demon.

He makes you cum on his fingers again, then his lips, then both at once. He’s pinning you down so harshly, you have no choice but to take the endless barrage of orgasms he’s forcing from you, almost as if he’s trying to make up for the time you two have been apart.

By the time his tastebuds are content, he brings himself back up to you, messily kissing your lips so you taste yourself, his beard and stache now soaked in your cum and rubbing along your chin.

You gasp when you feel his hard cock sliding along your folds. He rolls his hips against you, your copious slick letting him glide effortlessly, tip nudging your clit.

“Frankie,” you warn, unable to handle his teasing now.

He grabs the base of his dick. “Beg. Beg me for it,” He commands with a godly voice you’d never heard him use before. He slaps the underside of his throbbing member repeatedly against your pussy with a taptaptaptap. “Tell me you want it.”

You don’t care for the fat tears spilling down your cheeks as you whine like a bitch in heat. “Fuckyou, Frankie,” you seethe, anger building with your desperation. “I fucking want it, want it so bad, want you to ruin me, please, Fish, fucking please put it in already!”

He grins, big and sadistic as he watches your face contort with the first push of his tip into your wetness. “Oh F—“ he breathes, eyes closing as your tight walls do their best to accomodate his size.

Your eyesight is blurry, waves of pleasure rolling throughout your entire body, delirious as he bottoms out. Where he belongs. Where he’s always meant to be.

He presses his forehead to you as his hips start rutting.

He’s hardly fucked you for a few seconds, but the pressure building inside of you, desperate for this moment again after months, isn’t giving you a choice to savor it. “Fish—fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK! ‘M not gonna last!"

He growls excitedly, driving his cock more harshly into you, reaching that special spot he’s decided is only his to abuse. “It’s okay, babygirl. You cum for me. You're always so good at it."

And you are, you really are. “OH FUCK FRANKIE!” You scream. Your body agreeing with him so much that your abrupt orgasm squeezes around him so hard, his movements stop altogether.

“Oh shit—“ he hisses, your pussy greedily milking the cum right out of him. He only pauses for a moment, shaking over you for a moment as his first orgasm subsides before his hips are moving of their own accord, his cum forced out with each thrust.

“Keep goin’, pretty thing. Give me more,” he grunts.

You nod deliriously, eyes rolled to the back of your skull as he pounds your battered puussy.

He pulls out, the sudden withdrawal making you whine with emptiness. He sinks to his knees again, yanking your knees up to your chest. Your pussy twitches, his cum spilling out and sinking down your ass.

He lets out of primal groan from the back of his throat before smashing his mouth on your cunt, sucking your clit and tongue fucking your hole like a cream filled pastry. You feel the descending bob of his Adam’s apple against your rear as he swallows the mixture of your cum, drinking it like liquid life from the source. “We taste—so—fucking—good, Princesa,” he taunts, tongue lapping your little clit in quick succession before shaking his head back and forth aggressively against your mound, smearing the obscene mixture across your folds and making a mess.

Oh fuck, he’s so gone.

He quickly gets on his knees, turning you over on your stomach like you weigh nothing. His hands grip around your hips, bringing them flush against his crotch again as you arch your back for him. He puts his palm on the small of your back, keeping you right there, pressed tight against him as his cock slides back into your eager and cum coated cunt.

“Fuck yeah,” he groans, setting a faster pace this time. You hadn't realized just how much Frankie was holding back the first time you had sex. He leans over your body, hands splayed past your shoulders, fisting the bed as he rails you deep, his thighs crashing against you with harsh slaps. Your temple lands against his cheek, meeting eye contact. He smiles, breath caught in his throat like running a mile at your fucked out expression.

He continues to fuck you like an animal. A soft hand grips your chin lovingly, tilting your head further back so his lips meet yours with each punishing grind. You’re surprised by how much you love the hold he has on you, willingly submitting to him without being told. Drunk on each other’s lust.

You suck greedily around his tongue, hand reaching behind the two of you to play with his soft brown curls, refusing to let him leave your mouth. He stutters with a few more thrusts before halting, eyes scrunched closed. “AUUGHHH—haaaahh!” You feel the twitch of him inside you, draining his balls some more of his plentiful seed.

“Fuck, fuck I love it when you cum inside me!” You confess. The action makes you fall forward, mouth burying into his pillows as you muffle your own cry of your release again.

He pulls out of you and flops to the bed. You think maybe he is done, after having cum twice now, bur Frankie is quick to bring you to straddle him, his dick never once softening as it presses incessantly to your entrance again. He licks his lips, watching his cum spill down your thighs, right to his creamy cock that refuses to fully part from you.

“Frankie,” you moan, unsure if you can take him again.

“Want you just like this. Ride me,” he breathes. He’s covered in sweat, out of breath and shaking with a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline if it were possible. His hands gently wrap around your waist as he guides you. Eyes so lidded, transfixed on the area where your mound slowly swallows him again.

You’re nodding, body taking over all actions, completely starved for the man under you.

He leans up to get a good look at you, taking it slow, burning this in head to remember.

"Thought about you... everyday.” He whispers, mouth parted in lust, gliding your hips along with steady rolls. “Couldn't sleep."

His hands down along the curve of your ass, to your thighs spread out over him, before rubbing up the length of your back, holding you as close to him as he can possibly bring you, your tits pressing against his chest. He struggles to breathe evenly as your creamy pussy continues to tighten around him each time he breaches you, the two of you moaning softly into each others’ open mouths. He occasionally catches your lips, slotting perfectly as you grind against him.

His mouth finds its way back down to your pebbled nipple, biting gently before kissing it better. He brings his face back to yours. “So perfect for me,” he whispers.

You start grinding on him more fervently, lifting yourself on your knees ever slightly and baring down on him. He grits his teeth, sinking further down into the bed, eyes never leaving you as his digs his nails into the meat of your hips, forcing you to bounce harder.

“That’s it, baby. Ride me just like that. MY girl, my beautiful girl.”

You bite your lips, feelings your clit catch on his public hairs. The sloppy squelching of his cum being driven out of your heat by his thick cock is no match to the heavenly sounds you were making atop him. The vein in his neck strains like he’s suffocating himself from air, refusing to slow down, to take a break, to let go for even just a moment.

“More. Give me more,” you moan, confidence soaring as you feel him begin to meet your hips with every thrust. “I want all of you, Frankie.”

He shouts out, lifting you up, his feet digging into mattress as he fucks you from below. “Fuck, fuck!”

You want to throw your head back, ride out this high, but the dangerous allure of him watching you brings your focus down to him, watching the way the two of you are getting off to the other falling apart.

“Just like this. You n’ me. Want it just like this. Forever.” He mumbles repeatedly, ragged pants uneven as he fills you the way you had been unknowingly wanting for months.

You feel the build of your umpteenth orgasm building in your lower tummy. “Frankie-F-Franke! I’m—I’m gonna—“

“Do it, Querida, do it f-for me.” He thinks he can starve off the low build of his third orgasm of the night, just enough to make you cum for him once more.

You feel the heavy knot in your stomach snap. With absolutely no hesitation, no doubt behind your word, you cry out, “I love you!” as you cum harder than any time before.

Lifting you both practically off the bed, Frankie’s hips seize, pressed so tightly against yours there was no room between you. He shouts loudly, animalistic, snarling with his teeth baring at you and 0 control left in him, immediately emptying his load deep inside with each heavy pulse of his cock against your cervix, painting your walls white with the last of his cum that his balls could give you.

You collapse on top of him, the two of you sucking air like you were underwater for years. Neither of you say anything, covered in sweat and cum, but finally being able to relax from the pent up release that’s been building there far longer than it ever should have been.

His hand rests against your lower back, somehow pressing your naked body closer to his.

“I love you,” you whisper again to his collarbone. He brings your eyes to his, and this time he knows you mean it.

Frankie wakes to a cold bed.

His arm reaches out subconsciously for your body, but only feels cool empty sheets at his side. His eyes fly open, head sitting upright as he scans his bedroom. There's no sign of you. None of your clothes are scattered on the floor, no immediate trace of your scent. He feels a strong pain in his chest suffocating and stabbing him all at once.

He lies back flat on his pillow, fingers rubbing his forehead. He has two thoughts: the first thought, the one he'd rather think is true, is that it was all dream. You hadn't come home to him.

Before he could bring himself to consider the pain of the second thought, the fear is instantly squashed when he hears the door creak open, your sweet soft smile and gentle eyes landing on him.

‘Hiiiii,” you whisper in a singsong, gentle morning voice. Tip toeing bare foot on the hardwood floor, he see’s you’re dressed in nothing but one of Frankies slightly torn over sized, faded band T shirts that swallows your body. Your bed head still evident, eyes baggy yet happy from the events of last night.

He didn't realize he had held his breath the moment before you walked in, afraid that rather than having dreamt it all, that it did happen, and you had left him anyway.

"I made you tea," you hummed, setting the two cups down by his bedside table.

Your ears go red at the image of him: sheet pulled half way up his hip, his bare chest and torso visible as he props himself up with his elbows to get a good look at you. And the WAY he's looking at you, like you’re the only thing that matters in the world, has you sheepishly avoiding his big brown pupils, sliding in to the covers and nuzzling your head against his shoulder.

He wraps his arms around you, unwilling to let you sneak off again. “Don’t wake up before me like that again.”

You giggle. “Frankie, it’s 4 in the afternoon.”

He checks his digital clock by the bed, true to your word. You both had fucked so hard, so long last night that he didn’t even realize it was well into the morning by the time you had drifted to sleep.

He lies back down in bed, encircling you to him again. He can more clearly see the damage of last night’s episode on you: bite marks along your tits, hickies against your inner thighs and swollen lips. he doesn’t even need to touch your pussy, feeling its puffy soreness pressing against his leg. He kisses you gently yet passionately this morning, cradling your head so you can’t back away. Not that you want to—he doesn’t feel any resistance in your movements as you devour his lips.

“I love you,” he says clearly. He can feel the way your breath hitches, the blush on your cheeks at the confession. “I love you, and I’m so sorry it took me so long to say it. I’m sorry I caused you so much confusion and I—“

“Okay, Fish. It’s okay. I know.” You bite your lip, pushing your hand against his chest so that he’s lying down on his back. “But I’m not sure I forgive you just yet.”

A brief moment of confusion wracks his face before you’re clambering on top of him again, your naked lower body straddling his under the sheet. You fist the t shirt of your head, letting your soft supple breasts fall. Frankie immediately grabs them tenderly with both of his warm hands, his breath quickening. His length twitches, hard as a rock and pressing right against his lower stomach as you glide your slick folds along him.

“I think you should keep making it up to me.” You align the tip of his throbbing cock against your swollen entrance and sink down, hands seeking purchase on his chest, scratching the skin there as he fills your sore cunt, taking him down to the hilt in one go.

You let out the tiniest, sexiest whimper, and Frankie is ready to drop everything he’s ever owned just to hear it again. So smitten with you, he’s grinning harder than he has his entire life. Like a big dumb idiot.

Your big dumb idiot.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Querida: I love you.”

Tagging people who either requested a part 2/3 or directly requested to be tagged. At least what i can remember (sorry if I missed you!)

- - - -

Series masterlist

Series Taglist: @paleidiot @pedropascalsbbg @tonakings @nerdieforpedro @thewritermj @ahintofkiwistrawberry @perfectly-imperfect-me23 @sammy-4103 @survivingandenduring @millercontracting @emilyjustemily @boiistfu @pedritoferg @missladym1981 @titlee78 @fairytale07 @multiplefandomwritings @steviesimp @marisemonteiroo @dilfluverrrrrrr @howdigetinhere @jessthebaker

Permanent Taglist: @harriedandharassed

#pedro pascal smut #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morlaes smut #catfish morales smut #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales x reader #triple frontier smut #triple frontier fanfiction #catfish morales x reader #catfish morales #francisco morales smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #triple frontier fic

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artiststarme · 5 months

Text

Dead or Alive

After Spring Break, no one could find Eddie Munson dead or alive. His Uncle Wayne, the angry mob, even the police couldn’t locate him so everyone assumed he was dead. Some grieved his loss but most celebrated his apparent demise believing it to be what he deserved after killing Chrissy, Fred, Patrick, and Jason and hurting poor Max Mayfield.

Once the town recovered enough, Wayne bought a headstone for an empty grave and dutifully washed off the new graffiti that appeared each day. The kids of the Party mourned the loss of their idealistic Dungeon Master and disbanded Hellfire Club out of respect to him. And Robin and Steve disappeared to Steve’s empty house to grieve the loss of a friend (or so it seemed).

Because while everyone thought they were grieving and finding support in each other, they were actually caring for Eddie’s wounds and watching gay movies on Steve’s couch. They are junk food, cuddled in front of the TV, and appreciated being alive.

Steve couldn’t be around the party because he was supposed to be broken-hearted but it was the opposite. While he left the Upside Down the most recent time with more scars, both mental and physical, it also gave him everything he’d ever wanted. It took him away from the job he hated, gave him more time to spend with Robin, and it gave him a prospective boyfriend.

He felt bad keeping Eddie a secret away from the kids and his uncle but he had no other choice. Until he and Robin could brainstorm a logical explanation for his innocence and return from the dead, it’d be the three of them in hiding. Which to him, wasn’t a bad thing. Between the love of Robin and Eddie, his house felt less like a crypt and more like a home.

After a few weeks, they’d all gotten used to their solitary. Imagine their surprise when someone walks in on the three of them watching the Rocky Horror Picture Show right on the scene of Rocky showing off his fishnet clad calves. Imagine Officer Phil Callahan’s horror when his eyes landed on an injured homicidal maniac sitting half on his brother’s lap while drooling over Tim Curry. And imagine Steve’s mortification when his brother stood unmoving in the doorway of the living room with one hand on his hip and the other held over his open mouth in shock.

“WHAT IN THE FUCK IS EDWARD MUNSON DOING IN OUR PARENT’S LIVING ROOM?!” Phil shrieked, his face going red in barely concealed rage.

Steve, Eddie, and Robin all spoke at once.

“Is he? Oh my goodness, I didn’t notice. Steve, Eddie is in your house!”

“It’s just Eddie, you piece of shit.”

“Ok technically, I can explain.”

Phil just looked at them like all three of them were insane. “HE’S A KILLER!”

“No he’s not. He’s just a metalhead, Phil.”

“What is that supposed to do with anything, Steve?! I don’t care that he’s a metalhead, I care that he murdered at least three people in a week!”

Steve shot up from his seat so he was nearly eye-level with Phil. “Woah, he did not! I was with him the entire week and neither of us killed anyone.”

Phil just shook his head in confused exhaustion. “Is he dangerous?”

Steve looked him directly in the eye, “no! He didn’t do anything and he’s one of my best friends now.”

“Fine. I’m not dealing with this shit tonight. You,” he pointed at Eddie, “don’t kill anyone. And Steve, do not wake me up before ten AM unless someone is getting killed. Jesus Christ.”

He stomped up the stairs, grumbling under his breath the entire way. Meanwhile, Steve sat back down next to Eddie and gave him a small smile. “Well, that went better than expected.”

Eddie looked at him in disbelief, “did it Steve? Did it?”

(It, in fact, did not. The next morning, Steve had to tackle Phil away from the phone when he tried to call the chief and then had to hold him down while Robin rambled the entire story in an impressive four minutes. He only gave up once Steve threatened to disappear himself and Eddie (and Robin) forever without ever contacting Phil again.)

Should I make this into a longer fic? Let me know in the comments please!

#everyone else finds out that Eddie is still alive after Callahan helps to clear his name #him and Steve and Robin still move away but Phil acts as a protective big brother and goes with them #stranger things #steddie #fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #officer callahan is steve’s brother

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

Text

Adopt a Jock Part One / Part Two / Part Three PART FOUR YOU ARE HERE Part five

As always I own my entire soul to @chalkysgarbagefire

Steve didn't show up to lunch that Monday.

This was a problem, because Gareth and Eddie had carefully prepared the entirety of Hellfire to help make Steve play a D&D one-shot.

(Well, mostly Eddie--and he'd left out the parts about how the entire goal was to acclimate Harrington to hugs and high fives.

Gareth assumed that was a more careful conversation they'd all have later, outside of school grounds.)

"Eds, if you jiggle your legs any harder the table is going to take flight." Gareth complained, scooting away before he got jabbed in the gut.

"Where is he!?" Eddie muttered, glancing at his watch for what had to be the twenty-fifth time. “Are we sure he showed up to class this morning?"

Stewart, the only person to share a class with Harrington, gave their leader an exasperated look. "Yes, I’m sure."

He flicked his spoon, pointing it towards Eddie. "And yes he looked fine, yes, everything seemed normal, no I don't know why he's not here and no, no one fucking abducted him, or threatened him, or any of the other crazy excuses you keep coming up with!”

Eddie’s frown deepened as Gareth and Grant traded concerned glances.

"Maybe he just didn't want to sit with us today." Jeff remarked, approaching the topic with the same care a technician had when approaching a live bomb.

Gareth thought it was a smart move, considering Eddie looked like he was about to rocket into the ceiling.

"He's sat with us everyday, why would he change now?" Eddie argued.

"Maybe there's a basketball thing happening. Or he's saying hi to his jock buddies." Gareth tried, using the same cautious tone Jeff had.

"We’re his friends!" Eddie snapped, looking two seconds away from losing his shit entirely.

Almost unconsciously, Gareth and Jeff both raised a hand almost to try and help calm him.

Like he was a wild horse and they were the preteen girls in the movies determined to establish a bond before he killed their grandpa or some shit.

This was what happened when one deviated from a predetermined Munson-made plan. Not that Steve had known that of course, but then, he wasn’t exactly catching the fallout, was he?

‘I am making Harrington buy lunch after this.’ Gareth thought, as Eddie returned to bouncing both his legs almost frantically. ‘From someplace expensive.’

"Maybe Hargrove ate him." Grant suggested, as if the very thought of Billy Hargrove wouldn’t set Eddie off on a rampage.

"I could see it." Stewart agreed. "Dude has cannibal vibes."

"Not. Helping." Jeff hissed, his palm still in the air and hovering vaguely over Eddie’s shoulder.

Sure enough, Eddie’s entire body tensed at the mere mention of Hawkin High’s new King. "That’s it. We’re going to find him.”

“Have fun.” Tiff said, waving him off.

Eddie glared. “We’re all going.” He practically spat.

With a put upon sigh, Tiff set her food down. "You really want to spend the rest of our lunch period stalking around the hallways looking for Harrington?"

Eddie gripped the edge of the table so hard his knuckles went white.

"Yes Tiff, I do." He said, a manic gleam in his eyes.

He shoved up from the table, striking the kind of pose he often used during his rants. “This is a break in a pattern of behavior. A veer from an established path! This is the very first sign in every horror movie that something is wrong!”

He went to put his foot up on the edge of the table, like a pirate captain looking to the seas ahead, but instead missed it entirely and fell forward.

Eddie flailed for a moment, before managing to catch himself on the edge of the table. Instantly he began acting like he’d intended to fall like that from the start.

“I refuse to let any of us behave like idiotic, stupid, horror movie characters.” He finished dramatically, hair hanging in his face.

“You’ve been watching that Sherlock Holmes show again, haven’t you?.” Jeff asked him flatly.

“Among other things.” Gareth muttered, because as usual, he was the one who’d been watching said shows and movies with Eddie.

Not that it bothered him any, just that it meant he got to watch his best friend adopt new behaviors in real time.

Eddie flew back up, flinging his hair out of his face with a dramatic toss of his head.

“Come on my Watson’s! Let’s go find Harrington. I have a one-shot to pitch dammit!” Eddie outright yelled, flinging his arm skyward once again.

He got several startled glances in the cafeteria for it, but as used to Eddie as they all were, no one bothered to say anything to him.

“Why the fuck would we all be Watson?” Stewart muttered as he stood.

“I agree. Obviously, I’d be Watson.” Gareth said, also getting to his feet. “You’d be Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh fuck you, I would at least be the other crazy smart dude.”

“Mycroft or Moriarty?”

“Mycroft.” Grant and Jeff chanted as one, the both of them putting their food away.

“Not one of you is any Sherlock Holmes character. Except maybe the dog.” Tiff cut in with an eye roll as she finally gave in and stood herself. "Now come on, let's go take Eddie for a walk."

Said metalhead flipped her the bird, but otherwise didn't protest.

(Probably because this wasn't the first time they'd had to do laps with Eddie.)

xXx

"Maybe he just went home." Gareth said reasonably some fifteen or so minutes later.

They'd made their way through the school, Eddie obnoxiously bursting through all the bathroom doors to loudly (and embarrassingly) yell for Steve.

They hadn't seen hide nor perfectly shaped hair of their wayward jock, and none of them were looking forward to trapezing around the outside of the school to hunt for him.

Thankfully, they didn't have to.

"Wait.” Tiffany asked, as they passed by the small little hallway leading to the art and photography rooms. “Is that Steve?"

Immediately all heads turned towards the direction she had pointed in.

"I think so?" Jeff guessed, eyeing the guy standing in the hallway down from them.

Gareth squinted, trying to get a better look. "Looks like." He agreed. "Also looks like Tiff was right, he is hanging out with other people."

Eddie tensed at that. A true feat, Gareth thought, because he was already wound so tight he looked in danger of snapping in half.

"Fucking useless." Tiff muttered.

Louder, she said; "Let's try that again. Isn't that our idiot jock with his ex-girlfriend and the guy she supposedly cheated on him with?"

The lot of them watched as Steve stood in one of his classic defensive positions (arms tucked into his sides, back rigid and chin down, like he was about to perform some kind of football tackle.)

Nancy Wheeler faced him, her own chin raised and her arms crossed like she was about to give the lecture of a lifetime.

In between them stood Jonathan Byers, though he was angled more towards his girlfriend than Steve. The guy practically radiated discomfort but seemed to be managing.

Even if his shoulders were practically above his ears.

It didn't exactly look like a two on one situation, but then it didn't not look like it either.

"Shit." Gareth said, which summed up the situation rather nicely.

"Should we go save him?" Grant asked, concerned.

Not one person moved.

Instead, all eyes went to their fearless leader--who was uncharacteristically silent.

Gareth took in the narrowed, frantic-turned-furious look upon his friend's face and wondered vaguely if he was going to have to stop a murder today.

Possibly two, depending on Byer’s involvement.

"Defensive position boys!" Tiffany called out, breaking the spell with sheer volume as she made the decision for them. "Eddie, you with us or not?"

Brave words for her, considering Gareth knew damn well that Tiff was often more bark than bite.

Thankfully, it worked.

"Right!" Eddie barked, jerking in place as he came back to himself. "Our Stevie needs us, men and Tiff!"

He pointed forwards, like a war general leading a charge. "Hellfire, move out!"

Fanning out into a triangle behind their club president, the lot of them followed as Eddie marched forward.

"You know I didn't mean it like that." Nancy was saying, and even though Gareth didn't know her he could tell she was frustrated.

"You have people you can talk to. You have m--" she cut herself off when Eddie strode up next to Steve.

Then blinked rapidly, reminding Gareth of a startled cocker spaniel when the rest of Hellfire fanned out around Harrington like wolves guarding their young.

(Or brightly colored and very angry ducks, but wolves sounded cooler.

Plus the last time he'd said something like this aloud; Grant had loudly informed him it was actually Muskox that made protective circles, Stewart brought up that triceratops were cooler, Jeff decided they should be bees and Tiffany had gone off on a tangent about badly done animal behavioral studies.)

"I daresay I agree!" Eddie said, taking a dramatic leap forward and startling Steve and Byers both.

That alone was a cause to worry--Gareth couldn't recall a single time Steve wasn't hyper-aware of his surroundings enough to get properly lost in it.

At least lost enough that he missed an entire group of people approaching.

"Steve is more than welcome to talk to people! His people." Eddie leaned forward a touch, the smirk on his face the one he used when he was playing up his role as the town's satanist cult leader.

To her credit, Nancy recovered remarkably fast. "I take it you believe that's you?"

Eddie reared back, like a cobra rising to strike. "Why Nancy Wheeler, Stevie here is an adult and can choose who he wants to talk to.”

He turned, one hand over his heart and the other held out to Steve. " Ain’t that right, big boy?”

Nancy and Byers both just stared.

Gareth couldn’t blame them, he was staring too.

Apparently deciding Eddie was too ridiculous to deal with, Nancy returned instead to talking to Steve--who, Gareth noted with more than his fair share of pride, looked a bit more grounded now that Hellfire had arrived.

“I understand that we’re in a weird place right now, but you have to know I still care about you, right?” Nancy bit her lip, clearly unhappy to have an audience but plowing ahead anyway.

"I'm fine, Nance.” Steve told her, voice steady, but growing flat.

He was shutting down--shutting her out, if not everyone out. Gareth knew, if only because he’d watched Harrington do it to them more than once.

(Knew because he himself had shut downs just like this. Eddie and Nancy were the kind of people who got loud in their anger, demanding people see and face them.

Gareth on the other hand, even with his more explosive temper, often ended up more like Steve when faced with breakdowns with people he cared about. He didn’t want to hurt them. To say the wrong thing, to lash out when someone was just trying to help.

It was safer to shut up, back away and put some distance between yourself and whoever had pissed you off.)

Either Nancy wasn’t aware of that or was too deep into her own emotions to see it, because she took a half step forward. “I know you’re not fine. I know you, Steve.”

“Not anymore you don’t.” Steve responded, and Gareth wondered if he realized he was leaning away from her--and towards Eddie.

Considering the way Wheeler’s eyes bounced between them, he knew she definitely had.

Quite possible Byers too, from how he had to stop himself from pulling Nancy away.

“I’ve been working hard to become someone else.” Steve added. “So you don’t have to feel responsible for me. I’m not your problem anymore.” He spoke without malice, just with the pure emptiness of someone who completely believed everything he said.

“Steve-” Nancy protested, but Eddie cut her off.

"You heard him." He said, peacocking his little social win in a way only Eddie could. "Now if you don't mind, I have extremely important things to discuss and you have cut drastically into my time."

He flicked his fingers in a shoo gesture, one that made Nancy's eyes spark in a way that quite frankly, terrified Gareth.

"Fine." She grit out through clenched teeth. "You know I’m always available to talk, Steve."

She strode off, passing Steve and the rest of Hellfire without a glance backwards.

"Sorry man." Jonathan muttered apologetically to Steve as he passed, following after his girlfriend.

Steve waved him off.

"Well she's just a delight." Jeff muttered, once Nancy was well out of hearing range.

Steve's entire chest heaved in a sigh, swaying slightly backwards as if the entire confrontation had physically drained him.

"She's trying to help.” Steve muttered softly, scrubbing a hand down his face. “She's just...coming at it wrong."

He turned, seeming to finally notice that all of Hellfire was there. "What are you all doing out here anyway?"

"Rescuing you." Grant informed him.

"From Nancy and Jonathan?" Steve said in disbelief.

Like Byers hadn't supposedly kicked his ass already. Nevermind the moping Wheeler had caused.

(The entire school had witnessed the moping.

It was, after all, part of what had drawn Eddie to Steve.)

"Yes." Tiff replied bluntly. “Also if she corners you like that again, I will make it my personal mission in life to top all her test scores.”

"I--okay." Steve blinked rapidly, clearly unsure of how to process that.

“Not that I needed rescuing,” He continued after a moment, staring at the whole group. “But why were you looking for me in the first place?”

His voice was slowly recovering, coming out of that weird flatness it had scrunched itself into. It was an excellent sign, a sign of trust, and Gareth leapt to keep it before someone could say something stupid and fuck it up.

"Eddie needed you to pitch his next one shot idea and couldn't wait for you to show up." Gareth admitted. “We decided to hunt you down since you were missing lunch.”

“Oh.” Steve blinked again, and though it’d be concerning on anyone else, the guy just looked like a lost puppy. “I’m sorry man.”

“It's alright Stevie. I just thought you'd totally ditched us.” Eddie sniffed dramatically, looking like he was going to wing an arm around Steve’s shoulder but thought better of it. “No biggie.”

He pouted, and made absolutely sure Steve could see him do it.

“Is this you trying to get more of my M&M brownies?” Steve asked after a moment.

“Oh my dear, sweet, athletic friend. Not at all. Instead, you are going to play the one shot I worked so hard on.” Eddie bounced his shoulder into him as he spoke.

It was a weird little compromise the two of them seemed to have, since Gareth had regularly witnessed Eddie ping-ponging off Steve’s shoulders. “Let us break your tabletop cherry.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, the tiniest bit of humor peaking through.

Eddie stared at him, abruptly still and completely serious. “I will cry, Steven. Loudly.”

It brought a small smile to Steve’s face.

“Fine. I’ll play your dumb dweeb game.” He said, and couldn’t seem to stop the smile from overtaking his face when Eddie threw his arms in the air and cheered.

“Come on, I’m pretty sure the bell rang forever ago.” Jeff said, as they began to venture out back to the main hallway.

(“Hey guys?” Steve asked, right before they all split up to go to their various classes. “Thanks. For the save.”

Eddie positively beamed. “Anytime, Steve. Anytime.”)

xXx

“Hey Gareth?” Steve asked a few days later, joining Gareth in the library during his free period.

(Gareth himself was skipping, because if he had to listen to yet another lesson on the Crucible he was going to declare himself a satan worshiping witch and demand to be hanged.)

Gareth hummed to show he heard, as he carefully took stock of the loot he’d gotten from their last game. Eddie had been pretty good about it for once, and he wanted to look things over before the one shot.

“Can I ask kind of a weird question?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.

“Shoot, Stevie.” Gareth replied, finally comfortable enough to use the main nickname Eddie had nailed the poor guy with.

“Did Eddie give me a character with bad eyesight or “night vision” or whatever, because he thinks I have bad eyesight?” Steve’s fingers made sassy little air quotations around “night vision” because he knew damn well it wasn’t called that and didn’t want to get chewed out.

It was appreciated, even if it was cheeky as shit.

Gareth stopped writing. “Why’d you think that?”

“He just keeps acting like I’m my character.” Steve replied with a shrug. “Like all that stuff we planned about how my character gets around and relies on the group since he can’t see that great in the daylight? He does it for me too.”

“It’s Eddie, he’s eccentric.” Gareth struggled to keep a straight face, trying not to give the game away.

Laughing would absolutely clue Steve in to the fact that Eddie was doing it on purpose.

“He just keeps telling me before he touches me. Outside of the game.” Steve continued, utterly baffled.

Of course, Eddie was doing far more than that, in order to keep up the appearance that he was just being a weirdo who was too into his game. (Instead of trying to alert Steve to the fact he was going to lean on him, hug him, or do any other thing involving skin to skin contact that usually made Harrington panic.)

“If you don’t like it you should tell him,” Gareth said. He knew it was the better option, encouraging Steve to communicate. They could come up with something else if this was too weird (as frankly, many of Eddie’s plans could be.

Bless the guy but he had a habit of going for the dramatic over the practical.)

“No!” Steve protested, far too quickly.

He cleared his throat with a cough, and continued in a much calmer voice, “No, I don’t wanna ruin his fun or anything.”

As far as excuses go for letting something happen it was a weak one, but Gareth wasn’t going to call him on it. If Steve wanted to hide behind Eddie and his “fun” then Gareth would happily pretend to buy it.

Would buy whatever excuse Steve needed, to help make the guy feel more comfortable and like himself than the still often vacant ghost that hung around now.

“Just wanted to know if he actually thought my eyesight sucked.” Steve finished in a mumble.

“Well you did trip over the curb that one time.” Gareth teased playfully, and shot a grin at Harrington when that awkward look of his melted into something more offended.

“I was walking backwards!” Steve defended, his normal, almost bitchy tone returning.

“Uh-huh. And what about when you almost ate shit over that garbage can and Eddie had to save you?” Gareth taunted.

He grinned, watching as a blush overtook the older boys face, Steve glancing away frantically and--

Oh.

Oh!

'Oh-ho, ho, ho!' Gareth thought with absolute glee. The entire fucking school knew what Steve looked like when he had a crush, (Steve himself had made sure of that with Nancy) and Gareth recognized the beginning of it happening all over again.

Steve Harrington had a crush.

On Eddie.

Gareth could work with this.

“You know….” He paused, grin turning sly as a sudden idea came to him. “If you want to mess with Eddie a little bit I have an idea.”

Steve stared at him, confused. “Why would we want to mess with him?”

Gareth leaned forward. “Because pranks are fun, Harrington. Legend has it you even used to do them.”

Steve still didn't look convinced, but the nice thing about a man like Steve was that all Gareth had to appeal to was his sense of adventure.

“Now." He clapped his hands together in a move that had very much been stolen years ago from Eddie. "How good are your acting skills?

Meant to post this yesterday but I got surprise laid off last week and that pushed me back a bit, sorries! Absolutely related, I have a Ko-Fi now lmao. It’s https://ko-fi.com/sp0o0kyghosthost

Unemployment should go through just fine so I don’t really think I need to full panic but hey if you wanna throw me a dollar and yell “Dance writer dance!” I’ll do a lil tippy-tap jig.

#fucking jobs #this ones a bit more whumpy #steddie #pre steddie #they gettin there though #hellfire adopts Steve #adopt a jock #eddie munson #steve harrington #gareth emerson #Nancys in this one #she cares theres just a lot of hurt there #Eddie on the other hand is JEALOUS #that is HIS jock thank you!#He is REHABBING that jock!#dont you make his Stevie sad!#Gareth is now playing matchmaker #Lap Wars is coming

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msgexymunson · 2 years

Text

Keep Up With Me

Sub!Eddie x Dom!Fem!Reader

Description: your boyfriend breaking up with you because you're too much for him to handle might be the best thing that's happened to you. It's certainly the best thing that's happened to Eddie!

A/N: bitta angst, mostly smut, best friends to lovers, not me and my horny ass projecting again promise, I'm English excuse my language tally ho what what

Warnings: use of pet names (baby girl, sweetheart etc) reader uses she/her pronouns, NSFW, minors DNI or I'll smack you with a wet fish, F!Masturbation, lap riding, M!Oral receiving, slight M! Orgasm denial, p in v protected sex

5k words

Masterlist

You perch on the corner of the checkout counter at Family Video, legs swinging, fingers tapping on the side.

"So, apparently that makes me some sort of slut." You looked at Robin, one of your closest friends, and shrugged.

"Shit, what an asshole! So he basically dumped you because he couldn't keep up with you?"

"Yup. Sad ain't it." You inspect your fingernails, trying to come off as more aloof than you actually felt. You weren't in pain as such, not from losing that asshole, it's just his words kept ringing in your head.

Why do you want to fuck all the time? Must be some sorta slut. Are you a freak or something? What's wrong with you?

The harsh, sobering words ran through your head on a loop, wearing you down even further.

"Hey, I know that look, stop thinking about that jerk he did NOT deserve you, seriously! You just gotta find someone else, you always do." Robin stares at you, hand hovering over yours.

"That's the problem aint it. I just do this over and over. Too fricking horny for my own good!" You laugh; Robin giggles with you. "Hey there's worse problems to have!" You both chuckle for a bit, but you're still upset about his words. Slut. Freak. "Maybe I am a freak." You sigh.

"Whose a freak?"

You jump, and look around. Eddie Munson, your other best friend and long time crush, had just walked in the door. He flashed you a lazy smile, brown doe eyes creased at the corners.

"We are not talking about you Edward if that's what you think."

Eddie mimes being shot in the chest. "Oh sweetheart you wound me! Don't call me that." He pouts at you.

"It's your name, isn't it?" You poke your tongue out at him.

"Urgh, yeah, government name, but it's so not metal." He picks you up off the counter and spins you round, whilst you squeal.

"Put me down Edward!"

"Whose Edward?" He grins, still holding you, lightly tickling your sides.

"Okay Eddie please!"

He places you on your feet with exaggerated care, brushing imaginary dust of your shoulders.

Robin's eyes flick between yours and Eddie, widening and gesturing her head at you. You know she's dying to say something, but you had told her a million times, Eddie was just a friend. Sure he did shit like that, but it's like you were his little sister or something. There's no way he felt the same way about you.

"Well if you two are done flirting, I've got a job to do." You open your mouth to protest but Robin smirks, grabs a few videos and runs off like a baby deer to shelve them. looking at Eddie, you see his face is flushed. Silence for a heartbeat.

"So aren't you seeing loverboy tonight?" Eddie waggles his eyebrows at you.

"Oh I've just come from EX loverboy's house. Here to pick a horror film and pretend all the victims have his face. Oh and eat ice cream until I'm sick."

"Oh shit sweetheart I didn't know, sorry."

"It's all good, just trying to get some stuff he said out of my head. He's a dick anyway."

Eddie frowns, his brow furrowing. He knows this is affecting you more than you are letting on but he doesn't question it.

"Look, I've got a deal to do, but do you want to come over? I can drop you at mine and I'll be like 20 minutes max. I'm up for horror movies, ice cream and a joint or two?"

"Sounds good Eddie. Thanks."

"No problem sweetheart."

You pick a movie each and summon Robin from her hiding space to check them out.

"Okay you kids have fun!" She beams at you both, waving over enthusiastically.

"Robin you are such a dork." You laugh and leave, turning back to make sure the door shuts and doesn't leave a draught. Robin's still staring at you two, gesturing and putting her thumbs up. You roll your eyes and make your way to Eddie's van.

*******************************

Eddie, true to his word, dropped you off at his trailer. You were standing in his room, all alone since his uncle was at work. It was odd; you'd been here before several times, but never alone. You sat on Eddie's bed, surrounded by his smell. Laying back against the pillows you grab one and drink in the scent. Okay you've definitely crossed over into freak territory. He wasn't even here and you were obsessed; surrounded and engulfed by his scent. You felt a familiar warmth between your legs, your desire growing for him with each passing second. You hadn't even realised you had unbuttoned your jeans until your fingers met your underwear.

What the hell are you doing he'll be back any second! Despite knowing this, it gave you a little thrill to think he might catch you with your hand down your pants. Maybe he'd finally give you what you've been craving. Working your hand into your underwear, you find your clit with a gasp. You already felt wetness creeping from your folds, desire being something that seemed to run hot within you, all the time. Teasing at your clit, you run your fingertips in soft circles, building up that tingling feeling in your core.

Throwing your head back you groaned softly, increasing the pressure on your sensitive bud. You imagined it was Eddie's fingers doing this, rubbing you, teasing you into an orgasm. It definitely helped. Soon you were panting, chasing your release.

Your mind races, thinking about how he picked you up earlier so effortlessly, you thought about his strong hands holding you firmly, rings pressing into your flesh. You think about what it would feel like, his hands on you whilst you grind against him and that did it. You come undone with your own hand, your release shattering through your nerves. Laying there for a moment you gather yourself, feeling a twinge of guilt. You shouldn't be thinking about your best friend like this. Maybe there was something wrong with you.

Freak. Slut.

No time to unpack all of that, hearing the crunch of gravel outside. The front door opens.

"Hey honey I'm home!" Eddie chuckles, and you hear him coming towards his room. You quickly try look less dishevelled, wiping your hand and hoping against hope that what you just did wasn't written all over your face.

Eddie struts in, chucks his metal lunchbox on the bed and throws himself after it. You can't help but laugh at his exaggerated movements.

He lays there on his side, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Ya miss me?" He grins.

"Always." You smile at him, trying your hardest not to appear flustered.

"So, I'll roll, you pick what to watch, and we'll make a nest."

You laugh at that. "A nest? What am I an egg?"

"Just do what you're told baby girl." Jesus that's a new one. That nickname went straight to your cunt. He sits up, cross legged. "Oh and hand me those papers on the bed side table."

You bend across and grasp the papers, passing them to Eddie. For a fraction of a second he looks down and looks back up at you, face flushed pink.

"By all means get comfortable." He coughs and looks away.

You look down and realise you left your jeans unbuttoned. A small triangle of red is exposed from the front of your black jeans. Trust me to pick bright red underwear today. Flushing magenta, you try and cover your tracks.

"Shit, sorry Eddie the jeans were digging in you know."

"No worries princess, you want a pair of sweat pants? You need to be cosy in our nest" he grins at you.

"Sure, thanks Eds."

He grabs you a clean grey pair from a drawer and you go to the bathroom to change, cursing yourself for being so stupid. When you return, sweats hanging low of your hips, he had rolled and was waiting for you with a lighter in hand.

"Shit Eddie you could have started without me."

"Nuh-uh. This is all for your benefit, and I'm a gentleman. The lady gets first toke." He reaches over once you've sat down and puts the joint in your mouth and lights it. You take a drag, holding it in for a couple of seconds, then release it. You take another, deeper toke.

"Wow this is decent." You smirk at him.

"All my stuff is decent babe."

"Oh so we aren't talking about the other week with that shit that was all twiggy?"

"No idea what you're talking about." He looks pointedly in the opposite direction. You snort at his actions and pick the first film, loading the VCR.

You both lay back, arms touching, watching the film. The joint goes back and forth, and you begin to giggle at the movie, feeling your high settle in. Laughing with each other at the ridiculous plot, you feel so much better about everything that had happened that evening. You were with Eddie. He always made you feel at ease.

Once the movie had finished Eddie started rolling another, and you ejected the film to put the next one in.

"So, you ready to tell me what happened?" Eddie asks, licking the spliff into place.

Your eyes go wide thinking about what you did in his bed. Shit, how did he know?

"What- what do you mean?"

"I mean why did lover boy break it with you? You never said."

Relief started to spread through you, then you remembered the reasons. Freak. Slut. No way you could tell Eddie that. It was too embarrassing.

"Just standard guy commitment shit. Nothing new." You try and brush it off. It might have worked with someone else, but Eddie could always tell when you are lying.

"Nope, nope. You weren't even serious, you said. So go on, tell me?" His soft brown eyes bored into you.

You started to feel hot and bothered at this amount of attention.

"He said some stuff, it wasn't nice, I don't want to go through it again."

"Did you tell Robin?"

Ooft. How did he always know?

"Okay he said some... stuff that got to me. Jesus Eddie its not important!"

Eddie strokes your arm and looks you in the eye, "if it wasn't important it wouldn't have gotten to you. I just, I want to help."

You look into his eyes and see pure love there, and it does help. You take a deep breath, and, looking anywhere other than Eddie's eyes, you explain the real reason for the break up. Eddie sits silently, listening to you recount the events. When you are done, he looks at you and begins to smirk.

"Eddie it's not funny." You scowl at him. That throws Eddie over the edge. He laughs out loud, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. Feeling embarrassed, you move to get up. Eddie's hands grab your waist, holding you still.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart, I'm not laughing at you I swear." He's grinning, face slightly red from his outburst.

You stare at him. "Then what the hell are you laughing at?"

He chuckles a bit, then strokes your arm, "it's just, it's like he's gotten rid of any man's wet dream, seriously. What man doesn't want a hot girlfriend who wants to do him all the time? He's clearly fucking crazy."

"You- you think I'm hot?" You stutter at him.

"Of course, look at you, you're fucking incredible. Baby girl, any man would be lucky to have you."

Part of you thinks this is just Eddie being a good friend, but the way he looks at you and the lingering hand on your hip; that tells a different story. You decide to push it a little further.

"Any man, right?' You look into his eyes.

"That's what I said sweetheart."

"So, that includes long haired, metal loving, tattooed men right?" You look up at him through your lashes.

"I mean yeah if that's your type..." you see the penny drop behind his eyes. "Oooh, Er yes, those too. Maybe lead guitarist men. Men who like to play D&D?" His voice getting higher. He tilts his head to one side, looking at you with hopeful doe eyes.

"You think there's guys like that in Hawkins?" Batting your eyelashes at him, you move closer.

"Well, I can certainly think of one or two," he says, moving one hand to the nape of your neck, stroking your skin.

"Well, give me their numbers and I'll mmmph!" Your reply is muffled as he presses his lips onto yours.

His touch is electric, the feel of his lips on yours heated. It's more than you could have ever dreamt, the passion of the kiss is something you've never experienced before.

You press your tongue into his mouth and deepen the kiss. Eddie's hand holds you by the hip, fingers pressing into your sides, rings warming against your hot skin. You need to feel him closer so you move to straddle him, but in your eagerness you manage to push him onto his back. Leaning into him, legs either side of his hips, never breaking the kiss. You caress his chest with one hand, the other moving to grab him by the waist, as if he could get any closer without being inside you.

Both of your breathing becomes laboured, desperate. You break the kiss, panting at each other. Eddie's face is a picture, he looks like he's in heaven. A stupid grin is plastered across his features.

"So I've wanted to do that since forever." He beams at you, hand moving to cup your jaw.

"Why didn't you?" You frown at him.

"I dunno, I just thought you weren't interested in me like that."

You look down at him, gesturing to how you were straddling him. "Well, I mean, you're okay I suppose..." you tease him.

Eddie thrusts up with his hips, rubbing against your clothed pussy. You feel he is hard, almost busting through his jeans, and you whimper.

"Seems I'm a bit more than okay pretty girl." Eddie smirks at you.

"Shut up Eddie." The teasing that was a daily occurrence between the two of you puts you at ease. You hold him by the shoulders, and grind your core over his hardened cock, back and forth. Eddie groans low in his throat, his eyes rolling back.

"Jesus Christ, shutting up." You laugh at him, and reach to pull your top over your head, exposing your red cotton bra. It's just plain, soft cups with the tiniest bow on the front. Eddie gazes at your chest as if it were clad in the finest lingerie. You continue to rock against him, feeling your own pleasure mount up.

"You're gonna be the death of me sweetheart" he says but there's no malice in it, just pure admiration. You smirk at him and start planting kisses on his chest, fingers feathering their way to his belt. You undo it and his jeans, yanking them down to his knees, and continue leaving hot, open mouthed kisses to his stomach. Your fingers dip into the waistband of his boxers and you look up at him for confirmation. Eddie stares at you open mouthed for a second, then nods frantically. You smile back at him and bite your lip, pulling his underwear down slowly.

His member springs out to greet you, bigger than average but what really surprised you was the girth of it. You couldn't help but feel your pussy clenching around nothing in anticipation. Licking a pointed stripe from the base to the tip, you massage his balls with your hand. Eddie's head rolled back, his eyes scrunched shut. Lowering your mouth onto the tip, you swirl your tongue around it, licking up his pre cum. Eddie's groan was borderline pornographic. You look up at him and slowly take him into your mouth, using your hands for what didn't fit. Bobbing up and down on his length, you use your tongue to massage him. You'd wanted to feel his dick on your tongue for so long, this almost didn't feel real. There was something about being in control of Eddie's pleasure that made you feel extremely powerful. You could feel his cock twitching already, Eddie was practically whimpering. You could tell he was close.

"Baby girl, shit, I can't take much more, I'm gonna-"

You pull away with a wet pop, Eddie whimpering at the loss of your mouth.

"Baby girl please please." Eddie looks a mess, his face is red, his breathing coming out in heavy pants, trying to grab at your arm, side, anything he could reach.

"Patience baby", your voice dripping honey.

You fling your sweats off and move up him, straddling him in your underwear. Not letting him enter you. Not yet. You were enjoying dominating him.

You start to grind down on his length again, making Eddie whine.

"Please-" Eddie looks at you, breathless and pouting.

"No." You smirk at him. Eddie gasps and looks at you in surprise. You continue to rub your wet heat against him, "I was thinking about this earlier, wanted to find out what it felt like," grinning, grinding your cunt against his rock hard dick, feeling your slick drench your underwear and him.

Eddie's falling apart in front of your eyes. You unclasp your bra, letting it fall. Eddie's eyes widen and he whimpers, thrusting against you. You let out a moan.

"Touch me Eddie." He wastes no time in grabbing at your chest, smoothing rough fingertips over your hardened nipples. You feel a familiar sensation, a burning in your stomach and chest, desire building and building, setting your insides ablaze.

You increase your pace, rubbing back and forth, your wetness soaking Eddie, making him a slippery mess. You feel him twitch under you, fingers pinching your nipples almost painfully and it sends you over the edge. You cry out his name, your hands in your hair, still riding him, extending the outrageous feeling.

Eddie's hands suddenly grasp your hips, hard. You open your eyes and look down just as his scrunch shut. He comes then, violently with an exaggerated moan. His own release pebbles his stomach, your stomach, even a smattering reaches his chest. You look down at him as you come down from your respective highs, and you both start laughing.

"Well, I've never come like that before." Eddie's stroking your sides, gazing at you in disbelief.

You laugh, and get up off him, readjusting your underwear. You go to the bathroom to clean yourself off, and return with a dampened wash cloth. You kneel beside him, wash cloth hovering over him.

"You gonna help me or just stare baby girl" he smirked, poking you in the ribs, his other hand gesturing to the mess on his stomach.

"Hey, just admiring my masterpiece. Have to take a picture next time." You watch as Eddie's mouth springs open, his face turning purple. You simply hum and wipe him down, passing him the cloth to get anything you missed.

"Holy shit, I was right. You are literally every guys wet dream. Fuck. You're a-a pervert!" He points at you dramatically.

Laughing loud at that, you flop down next to him. He turns on his side and strokes your face, moving a couple of stray hairs.

Feeling self conscious for a moment, you look at him, cheeks flushed slightly.

"You don't mind then?"

"Mind? Mind?? I think I won the lottery." He beams at you and brings you in for a kiss.

"So you wont mind what I meant, when I said I thought about that earlier?" You're testing him, seeing if this could actually work. And you want to see the look on his face.

"Oh please for all that is good tell me." He practically pants at you.

You giggle, "well when you dropped me off I had some time to fill, so I might have touched myself thinking of you."

The groan that escapes Eddie's lips travels straight to your core. He envelopes you in a fiery kiss.

"Jesus baby girl, fuck!" He rubs your back, one hand snaking into your hair, pulling it. "In my bed?" You nod. "So yeah I'm hard again."

You laugh, "looks like you weren't kidding when you thought you could keep up with me," you smile smugly at him.

He pushes you onto your back in response and starts to nip and lick at your neck, leaving opened mouthed kisses in his wake.

"Oh I can keep up with you baby girl, trust me."

Then he's mounting you, the tip of his cock begging for entry.

"Someone's eager, have you got protection?" You raise your eyebrows at him.

"Yes, God yes, please baby please." His eyes dart to his bedside table.

You push at him, smiling, teasing him, "so you're all confident until you have any pressure at all, I see. Lay back then baby."

He immediately lies on his back, quiet and unassuming, holding his cock by the base. He looks painfully hard but he's not moving a muscle, looking at you for your say so. You feel immensely powerful, gazing at him in such compliant position.

You reach to the drawer at his bedside, rummaging through.

"Oh, what do we have here?" You exclaim, pulling out a dirty magazine, folded to the centre. You cant help but notice the model's hair is just like yours.

"Hmm, she's hot I'll give you that. Kinda looks a little like me eh?" You wink at him mischievously.

He blushes crimson at you in reply.

"I, I suppose I have a type?" He shrugs, face red as a beetroot.

You can help but laugh, "I'm just flattered baby." And then you find his condoms. You pull one out and rip it from its packaging using your teeth.

"So, you gonna be a good boy?" You question, it almost being a joke but you receive a very certain "yes ma'am!" As a response.

You cant help but chuckle, "oh, so the dungeon master wants someone in control, I see how it is," and you grab the base of his painfully hard member.

"Please...' Eddie nearly drools out of the side of his mouth in response.

"Hmmm its good to hear you beg. Well I suppose I'll humour you. For now," you smirk out the corner of your mouth. You roll the condom onto his hard cock. He hisses at the friction. You line him up to your entrance, straddling him.

As you slowly lower yourself onto his hardness, he cries out at the sensation. You see his eyes screwed shut in response, his cheeks flushed pink. You already feel obsessed by the look of him as he entered you. You want to record this forever, the moment you finally got to take your crush. The moment you realised you could completely take control of him; everything you'd ever dreamed of. He's compliant, melting to your touch. You take him into your cunt until you're sitting on him fully. He's buried in you to the hilt, stretching you. Its bordering on pain given his size, but delicious in itself. It's a good pain.

You hold him by the waist, almost possessively. Searching his eyes as he meets your gaze, you see tears gathering at the edges of his eyes, flustered and fucked out already. The look on his eyes is pleading, almost praying.

"Mother of God, fuck...."

"I thought we settled on ma'am?"

"No.... definitely seeing God... baby..." it's a shadow of Eddie's usual humour.

You giggle at him, a sound seemingly innocent, considering Eddie is buried deep inside your pussy. You start to slowly move against him, bouncing up and down on his length, grinding against him every so often. Eddie's eyes roll back, he grabs you firmly by the hips, rocking you back and forth. You take a deliberate, pounding pace against him and feel your release begin to build again.

Eddie is babbling, passionately holding you as tight as he can.

"Jesus, baby girl, you feel so tight and warm, fuck."

Eddie's words of encouragement and blissed out face spur you on. You take him harder, faster, gripping onto him with your fingertips. Every thrust bringing you to ecstasy. You can feel him through every fibre of your being, deep within your core. You cry out in pleasure, the feeling of Eddie in every nerve. Moaning and writhing above him, you know you're about to cum, your walls flexing around him, squeezing his length. Eddie whimpers and you practically scream, your pleasure coming to a head, the feeling pulsating through your every limb, taking over control. Your body rocks in absolute rapture. You shake and stroke his sides as you come down.

"Fuck, Eddie, oh my God." You quiver above him, legs shaking.

"Baby, please can I get on top of you. Please." He looks up at you, wide eyes beseeching you. How could you say no to that face?

"Go on, whatever you want." You remember his reaction from earlier, " you've been such a good boy."

Eddie practically growls at that, flipping you onto your back.

He finds your entrance, slipping back into you deeply with a groan. You pull one leg over his shoulder, the other hitched around his waist and see his eyes roll back. He thrusts into you, deep and slow, planting open mouthed kisses onto your calf.

You stare at his face, one hand cupping his jaw. He's pink tinged, sweating, wild eyed.

"Hey, Eddie, baby, look at me. You're being such a good boy, taking me, using me so well baby."

"Fuck yes" Eddie breathes, his eyes now fixated with yours, grounding him. "Thank you thank you thank you." He chants as his thrusts get faster and sloppier. He grabs onto your hips, plunging as hard into you as he can, and you feel a mounting desire burning in the depths of your stomach.

"Eddie yes fucking me so well, oh God baby, I'm gonna cum so hard." Your words of encouragement send him over the edge; with a stutter and a high pitched moan he comes, shaking and gripping you tight. He continues to thrust in you though, looking at your face, brow furrowed. It must feel too much but he wants, needs you to come again. You grab him by the ass and push him into you as far as he will go, arching your back, releasing a toe curling moan as you orgasm.

You both try and slow your breathing as you move your leg from his shoulder, still quivering.

"Jesus Christ, baby girl that was... wow" Eddie chuckled in disbelief.

"Yeah? That good huh?" You smiled up at him, stroking a stray hair from his face.

"I just... if I knew you were gonna be so..."

"So what?" You frown at him.

"So... in charge! I mean, fuck that was... wow." He grinned at you, and you see your Eddie again. He rolls off you and disposes of the condom.

"What would you have done?" You smile at him, grabbing the blanket to cover yourself up.

"Well, probably just thought about it a whole lot until you made a move." You laugh at that.

"Eddie that's what happened."

"Hmmm, impeccable logic. Still, you had no right keeping this to yourself."

You laugh and throw a pillow at him. He pretends its heavy and it knocks him to the bed. He wiggles underneath it, seemingly pinned. You crawl over to him, moving the pillow, and cage him in with your arms.

"So, I'll roll, you put the movie on, and then round three yeah?" You tilt your head with the question.

"Fuck baby girl you really are gonna be the death of me. But what a way to go!"

#ms gexy writes #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie fanfic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things fan fic #stranger things fan fiction #eddie fan fic #eddie munson fan fic #sub!eddie #sub!eddie munson #eddie munson #dom!reader #sub!eddie munson x reader

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hyunip · 6 months

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DISTRACTION

————•————•————•————•————•

https://sober!-ony-x-drunk!-plus-size-black!-reader.com//:hyunip

A/N: Cannot get this man ony out of my head and how he gets distracted by how fine you looks while you talkin’ to him. You know that part of redbone with instrumental? He think you looks like that part of the song. Ion know if that made sense to you, but if it don’t, you gonna have to make sense out of it.

[I suck at warnings, sorry]

MATERLIST[Needs to and will be updated]

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[T]ipsy was really the only word that could explain you right now. The only word that fit into how you felt.

Your vision was a bit blurry, and your mind felt a little scattered, like all you could think of was words and how to put them in a way. But whilst talking, it seemed you couldn’t care less about what you said to him. Letting your thoughts be free. You were only like this because you and Onyankopon’s friend group were playing a game of uno with a little twist.

If someone put down a draw four card, you’d have to do four shots and then draw your four cards. Same thing if they’re stacked—if you have to draw eight cards that’s eight shots and eight cards—so on and so forth. You weren’t sure who made that shit up, but whoever did it was a damn good idea. It was funny and loud—which may have caused a little headache—and chill too. You all had a good time. But after a few rounds you all decided to chill since Sasha—a light weight—had one too many drinks for herself. So she’d went up to your room to sleep. Whilst Connie, Mikasa, Eren, Armin, and Jean were all laid out on bean bag chairs on their phones or talking. You were all in your basement, the song redbone by Childish Gambino playing, set to a medium volume on the speaker at the back.

Ony listened to you talk, listened to you sound a little loopy as you talked to him about a dream you had of him.

“And you was chasin’ me downstairs wit the knife—I almost bust my ass on the last step” you told Ony, your eyes slowly closing and your hand moved slowly to facepalm yourself in the face as you said the last part, making Ony chuckle at how you found it so dumb. “I ain’ gon lie baby, this shit sound like one ‘uh dem horror movies you be watchin’” he laughed.

Truth be told, Ony loved when you told him about your dreams, or spoke to him about just anything. Your voice was so smooth and sexy on the regular, but when you were like this, it was just goofy and sounded loopy as hell, and he found it funny and cute. But at some times—like now—he could rarely really ever focus on what you were saying, since he always found himself stuck admiring your facial features and body and how good you looked. He admired your ass, your thick thighs—and definitely the way the quadruple in size whenever you sit down. That has him practically drooling and wishing to be held between them for the rest of his life.— you hip dips, your double D cup sized breasts, and of course that pudgy belly you had (cause be real. You can’t want a woman with a FAT DUMPY and some pretty big titties without no stomach 🙄 plus size are baddies too.)

He loved the fat under your arms and how chubby you were. But my oh my, when he catches a look at them pretty brown eyes and see that wide and beautiful smile, his heart can’t help but skip almost all the million beats. He may not show it, but when he sees how good you look everyday, he try his best to find the words to speak. Always silent at first glance.

He was leaned back against the couch, his arms falling on his thighs as he sat manspread beside you, staring at your well done makeup. The little eyeliner wing making an illusion of slim siren eyes with a lit red tint under your eyes, and mink lashes perfectly placed on your lash line. The look with your outfit made him want to get on his knees and start slurping you up and eating you like the last dinner he will ever have. You were just too sexy, and he could always gas himself up about how bagged himself the baddest woman in his eyes.

“You listening?” Your voice was low and interrupted by a small hiccup after drinking a few sips of a cup of soda sitting on the small round table in front of you both. His thoughts were interrupted by that, bringing him back to reality.

When he focused back onto your words and was able to give your entire being a final analyzation, he heard the best part of redbone begin to play, making the moment even better for him.

Ony nodded at your question before you moaned in satisfaction as to what your ears were hearing right now, standing to start dancing to your favorite part of the song, vocalizing with it under your breath. As you got up, so did Mikasa and Connie, all of you vibing out to the music and singing along with each other. Ony couldn’t do anything but sit back and watch you enjoy yourself and feel good.

Best believe he could NOT wait to get you home and love and touch all up on you…

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And that, Ladies and Gentleman, was DISTRACTION by HYUNIP!

#hyunip #aot x reader #black reader #aot onyankopon #aot eren #aot mikasa #its been some time since i wrote anything #I love writing about ony #ony x black reader #plus size reader #for my big girls

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thatfandomslut · 2 months

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Social Pariahs

Janis Imi'ike x Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Trigger Warning: shameless flirting, cringy pick up lines, two anarchists in love (sry not sry)

Request:

please do a Janis x reader where the reader is new at school and doesn’t want to get into the social pyramid and they are outcasts together idk some fluffy stuff

Mean Girls requests are open.

Janis Imi'ike would be lying if she wasn't enamored by the new girl. She was just so cool. For starters, the Plastics offered her a spot at their table, and she swiftly shot them down, opting for a seat by herself in the lunch room. Watching Regina's face fall as she tried to hide the shock with a scowl was honestly Janis's favorite thing to ever happen. Additionally, they shared three classes: chemistry, English, and, most importantly, art. That was how Janis learned how amazing the new girl was with a paintbrush as she finished an art assignment on the inner self.

"Ms. (L/n)," the teacher cleared his throat, analyzing the canvas. On it displayed the brain on fire. A worry line slowly appeared on the teacher's face before a forced smile fell on his lips as he put the canvas back onto the easel. "Would you like the pleasure of explaining your art as a way to also get to know everyone a bit better?"

It was obvious that (Y/n) didn't want to as she pondered for a moment. "Okay, yeah, sure." (Y/n) stood up, removing the smock that covered her clothes. Though, the paint did find its way to her hands, arms, and face. Janis watched intently, her chin resting on her fist. She knew that if Damian was there, she would be receiving the biggest side-eye in the entire world. Thankfully, within the four walls of the classroom, she was safe from his judgmental stare as she admired the girl from afar. "My name is (Y/n). My art on the inner self represents how I feel the school system is doing more harm than good by frying our brains as they mold us into the people they want us to be rather than the people we want to be." (Y/n) said, sitting back down as the teacher stared in shock.

After a moment, he cleared her throat as he looked around. The other students, with the exception of Janis, seemed to be just as shocked and in a brief moment of confusion. "Right, right… Thank you, (Y/n)." He said, feeling slightly resigned as he plopped back into his chair. He had the sudden realization that one, he didn't get paid enough for this shit, and two, she was going to be a brilliant artist one day using her political ideologies to guide her.

Janis stared brightly at the girl but quickly looked away when they made eye contact with each other. Janis didn't notice the girl approaching her work. It was a small version of her with Cady and Damian with music notes and horror movies stitched over her paint strokes. "Your work is really cool." (Y/n) said, startling Janis, who looked over. She was at a loss for words. She had so much she wanted to say but couldn't. She finally understood how Cady felt about Regina and Aaron. "Are they your friends? I've seen you with him, but who is she? Your girlfriend?" The girl inquired, pointing over at Cady.

"Cady? No, no. She is not my girlfriend. She's cool and all but not for me." Janis said, waving off the feeling of embarrassment that wanted to stain her cheeks a bright shade of red. There was a small hint of a smile on (Y/n)'s lips as she listened to Janis. "I- I notice you sit alone at lunch. Is there anyone I can convince you to sit with Damian and me?" Janis offered, a feeling of dread settling on her chest as she feared rejection.

However, the familiar blow never hit. "Yeah, sure, as long as you're not a part of whatever weird social pyramid scheme that the rest of the school seems to be in." She said as the bell rang. Grabbing her bag, (Y/n) offered Janis a wave that caused Janis to feel like she was floating momentarily. While Cady described the feeling she had for Regina and Aaron to make her feel 'stupid with love,' Janis felt confident. (Y/n) was so beautiful and they shared so many of the same ideas (though she only knew two of them). Janis couldn't help but find herself crushing on (Y/n).

At lunch the next day, (Y/n) showed up, standing behind Janis. "Excuse me, ma'am," Damian smirked over to Janis when (Y/n) began speaking. Janis went red as she looked behind her with a sheepish smile. "I might not be a photographer, but I could see us together." (Y/n) said playfully as she sat next to Regina. Once again, she had rendered the very outspoken Janis speechless. Damian could almost applaud the action teasingly, but he could see how nervous his best friend was. Mercy was Janis's friend that day, and Damian accepted that.

When Janis still said nothing, Damian stepped in to transfer the attention onto himself. "So, (Y/n), Janis tells me you're an amazing artist. Are you entering the art show with Janis?" He questioned, hoping the new conversation would help Janis ease herself out of the shell she had put herself in. "I heard there was potential scholarship money for the winner," Damian added, trying to recall everything that Janis had shared with him. Janis looked over at (Y/n), wondering if she was going to put her artwork in, too.

"Yeah, I was considering it. I was looking through the categories. I was thinking about doing a portrait, but anything I could create would never achieve what Janis's art does." She said, glancing over at Janis who perked up at the mention of the category. She wouldn't want to compete with (Y/n), but she was curious to see what she could paint. "But, there are several different sub-categories with different awards. I might do that so I could get a sense of the competition for next year. I like to scout the competition before entering my work so I know how hard I have to go."

Damian nodded thoughtfully, gently kicking Janis under the table so she would finally say something. "I think you should enter. Your work is amazing. Like the Brain on Fire piece? It was so amazing, and Mr. Callahan didn't even know what to say. You're are speaks volumes. I hope you do enter." Janis gushed unintentionally, hoping she wasn't rambling. Pink dust covered (Y/n)'s cheeks as she looked down in order to allow her hair to hide the blush and the smile that was growing on her face.

Finally, giving herself grace since she knew it was a natural reaction, she looked up at Janis. "Okay, I'll consider it. I am working on something new. I've been going to the art room every free period to work on it." She said thoughtfully at first as she grew more confident. "I think it could work. Mr. Callahan says it looks amazing so far. Though, I think he's scared of me." (Y/n) jested, causing Janis to laugh. Mr. Callahan did indeed keep his distance after (Y/n)'s response last class. "Wait until he finds out I'm a pyromaniac anarchist who loves putting fire and politics in my art to spread my messages." She said with a giant smirk. Janis didn't know she could fall more until that moment and the weeks that followed.

"Hello, may I have your attention please?" Principal Duvall's voice filled the halls just in time for morning announcements. Janis barely had it in her to pay attention since she was texting (Y/n). For about three weeks now, she had been flirting and trying to build the courage to ask (Y/n) on a date. "I want to first announce that there are two students we need to wish luck to. Miss Janis Imi'ike and Miss (Y/n) (L/n) are finalists at the Illinois Art Expo this Saturday. Go lions! Even for art." Principal Duvall said as Damian looked over at Janis cheering 'Art! Art! Art!' Janis could barely think for a moment as she went to text (Y/n), only to receive a congratulations message first.

At lunch, Janis was excited to see (Y/n) in person since the announcement. She was practically buzzing with excitement to ask if she wanted to go with her and Damian. So much so that Damian gently reminded her to calm down because she was shaking the table as her knee bounced in participation. "Hey, Damian," (Y/n) greeted as she sat beside Janis. "Hello, my fellow finalist." (Y/n) winked, nudging Janis softly with her elbow. There was a giant grin on her face, showing that she was just as excited as Janis was.

"Hey, congratulations on being a finalist. I knew that you would be. Quick question, by the way… Since Cady is going with her mom somewhere this weekend, there is enough room on Damian's hot ride. Do you want to come with us on Saturday?" Janis questioned as Damian instinctively smirked at the two. He did it every time one of them joined the other. "I promise it'll be a safe ride. If we hit a bump, I'll hold you close."

(Y/n) looked over at Janis, a small smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "I know you would, babe. I want to say yes but my dad wants to take me." She said with a soft pout. But none of that mattered because Janis was stuck on the fact that (Y/n) had just called her babe. Janis smiled to herself as Damian looked over to see if she'd say something. "I definitely will find you when I get there. I want to see your work. I'm excited to see what you've done." (Y/n) put a hand on Janis's knee gently, and Janis's already red cheeks turned maroon as she smiled more.

That Saturday, the art expo was buzzing, and (Y/n) found herself waiting on Janis at the front while her father wandered through the building to look at the other artworks. "Hey, you," (Y/n) turned to see Janis and Damian riding in on a scooter. A laugh bubbled through her chest as she looked over at them with her brows raised. "Like our sweet ride?" Janis questioned as Damian went up the ramp to make his way over to them. Janis got off, wrapping her arms around (Y/n) as Damian parked the scooter by the bike rack, and put a bike security chain on it to make sure no one drove away with it.

"I love it," (Y/n) chuckled, allowing her arms to envelope Janis, too with a smile. Their cheeks were both burning, but neither broke the hug. "I definitely wasn't expecting it. I thought Damian would be coming in a car with the bass-boosting Nicki Minaj or Beyonce."

Damian gasped, pleased by how well (Y/n) knew him. "You know me too well." He wiped a fake tear away as he approached the two with a grin. He didn't want to interrupt their moment, but it was cold outside and he was ready to see the works that they had been talking up so much (even though neither one of them had seen it yet. "Let's go, lesbian, let's go." He gently gestured for them to go inside, causing them to hesitantly spill up and head inside as they headed for the North Shore High table.

On one side of the table was a group portrait of Cady, Damian, (Y/n), and Janis. "Wow, Janis," (Y/n) grinned widely. "This is freaking incredible." She had to resist her fingers tracing the string that was stitched into the canvas, over Janis's broad brushstrokes. She was constantly amazed by Janis's works and talents. "You won first place!" (Y/n) pointed over at the ribbon. As she looked back at Janis, she noticed the girl wasn't paying attention. Instead, Janis's focus was on (Y/n)'s work.

Nerves exploded in (Y/n)'s chest as she hoped Janis liked it. It was a portrait of Janis with poetry placed around her in calligraphy. Her jaw was dropped as she looked over at (Y/n). Before (Y/n) could say anything, Janis kissed her deeply. Her eyes widened before she kissed back, her hands moving to the back of Janis's neck to pull her closer. Damian looked around for a brief moment before slipping away to give them privacy. "I've never been captured like that before," Janis spoke in a hushed tone, smiling at (Y/n).

"Well, I've been trying to figure out how to ask you on a date since the day I first talked to you. I figured this might be the best icebreaker." (Y/n) said, pressing soft kissing to Janis's cheek. Janis grinned at the action, biting her lip. "I wanted to paint you because nothing makes me feel more passionate than when I think of you. You've encouraged me to go after what I love in art and you've helped me grow. Not only as an artist but as a person." (Y/n) expressed, her fingers intertwining their fingers gently. She was thankful that Janis felt the same since she was nervous about how the art would be perceived.

"I love it," Janis's breath was absolutely taken away by the art and over the fact she kissed (Y/n). "And, I like you, too. I thought you were cool before we officially met. But your Brain of Fire art piece is what made me fall for you. You were so cool and outspoken. I really like that about you. I just really like you." Janis shared with a soft smile. (Y/n) grinned at this before kissing Janis again. Happiness swelled through the two, and the Art Expo around them seemed to fade as they stayed in each other's arms for a couple more long moments.

As (Y/n) pulled away, she kissed Janis's cheek gently. "My dad is going to be looking for me at some point. I should go find him. I'll pick you up at six on Saturday?" She waited a moment for Janis to nod. (Y/n) grinned widely before waving back at Janis. She couldn't believe that they had finally kissed. She couldn't wait for their date. Everything felt like it was finally falling into place in her life, and she felt excited and lucky to experience that with Janis.

A voice broke her from her thoughts, causing her to turn around. "(Y/n), wait," Janis called, holding the canvas with (Y/n)'s work. (Y/n)'s brows rose as she looked at Janis. "Don't forget your artwork." She said, passing the canvas over.

(Y/n) shook her head, pushing it back into Janis's hands gently. "It's for you, Janis Imi'ike." She teased out Janis's last name as she winked back at the girl. "I'll see you later, babe." And just like that, she left Janis there with her heart beating quickly and a stupid grin on her lips because she called her babe.

#janis imiike x reader #janis imiike #mean girls x reader #mean girls

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cumulativechaos · 2 years

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having seen jordan peele's three movies at this point im pretty sure the way on-screen gore and violence is used pretty sparingly is part of his style. and i like his style a lot, but the way so much of the gore is kept off-screen works SO well in Nope (2022) specifically

like for one thihg, having some of the most gruesome/terrifying parts of the movie happen just outside of the camera or blocked by something in the shot definitely elevates the horror. gordy attacking jupe's co-stars is all blocked by the set, we only see the shadows of everyone getting sucked into jean jacket, and even tho we see them inside jean jacket a little bit, it's more to show us how they were being kept alive. we don't actually see them die/get digested. and because none of these things happen on-screen, our brains connect the dots and come up with the most horrifying shit we can imagine

but even outside of just how Not Seeing The Scary Thing Makes The Scary Thing Scarier, it fits fucking thematically with the whole movie. we don't need to see the gory gruesome details of someone's death to know what happened to these characters, showing these things on-screen wouldn't add to our understanding of the plot. it would just be a spectacle of gore and pain and the whole point of Nope is condemning the act of pointing the camera at suffering to exploit people's pain

#nope jordan peele #nope spoilers #nope 2022 #nope 2022 spoilers #jordan peele #mp #literally he fucking does it again. how is jordan peele so fucking smart #and also this is SUCH a Black subject. so often Black suffering is exploited and shown to a gratuitous degree #like im not surprised that such an incredible movie that criticizes making spectacle out of suffering was made by a Black man

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horanghaejamjam · 6 months

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Jigsaw - {CS}

↪ Summary: You are the lead detective in an investigation surrounding one of the most infamous killers the city has ever seen. Unfortunately for you, Jigsaw knows you're onto him and has played you like a game at every turn, threatening the case and your status. Your determination to catch him finally gets you a lead, only for you to find yourself tangled in a special trap that he designed just for you. Let the game begin.

↪ Pairings: Jigsaw Killer Choi San x Female Detective Reader

↪ Rating: M 18+

↪ Genre: Non-idol/Slasher/Horror movie au/ Suggestive / Fluff/Friends to enemies to lovers

↪ Word Count: 5.7k

↪ Warnings/Contents: References to classic horror movies, mainly Saw, Silence of the Lambs, and Scream. Mentions of death/murder/being shot (not detailed). Seonghwa and Mingi both make cameos in this story with a few other members being mentioned. Swearing and implied smut (MDNI). San being a teasing little shit, makeout sessions, fondling over clothes.

↪ Side Notes: To the wonderful @pinkywritings hi darling I was your assigned Ghost Writer for the @atinyhalloweenproject. This is my first time writing for San and I had a lot of fun with it so I hope you enjoy it! Sorry it is so late I wanted to have it out by Halloween but due to the sudden weather change we haven't had power. I tried to make it longer to make up for that so hopefully it doesn't feel rushed and was worth the wait!

I honestly may do a part two to this or an expansion later on because I love the idea of Jigsaw San but we'll see.

↪ Click here to see my other Ateez stories

↪ Click here for other kpop masterlists

↪ Click here to join my fic taglist

“Police officials are seeking any leads in identifying the man known only to the public as the Jigsaw killer. He is believed to be linked in multiple disappearances and murders that have taken place around Seoul for the past three months. The victims were all found in various handmade traps and had a puzzle piece drawn somewhere visible on their body. At this time investigators have no leads and are asking the public for any knowledge they may have on this public threat.”

The reporter's voice faded to nothing as the volume on the TV was lowered to zero. You groaned softly to yourself as you tossed the remote to the side, running your hands through your hair as you sat forward on your couch. It had been just over a month since you were assigned the Jigsaw murder case, the last detective backing out after the man in question threatened to target his family. The case was quickly transferred over to you, one of the best detectives in your field, but it was very quickly starting to test your patience.

Whoever this Jigsaw was, he was a clever man. He left no trace, no evidence, nothing that would allow you to track him down. You went through surveillance, interviewed the family and friends of the victims, tried breaking down his traps for any clues, but any lead always led you right back to square one. You had tried to be patient, hoping that eventually he would slip up and give you something, but it was starting to sound like wishful thinking. Even worse, he knew who you were and started calling you out directly. You would find notes addressed to you, pictures, voice messages, all calling you out and taunting you. It was like he was playing some cruel game with you and you had no choice but to play along or risk losing everything. You couldn’t even walk to work anymore without some reporter chasing you down demanding an explanation or any evidence you had in the case. It came to a point where you only went to the office when called, and the rest of your work you did from home.

Various evidence pictures and case files were thrown across your coffee table, a few rough notes scribbled in between. You had been looking at the same files for the past couple of hours, dissecting every last word to see if you had missed any connections. Your last victim had been found 72 hours ago, and you knew you only had a day at most before the next one. There were a few things you had discovered about Jigsaw, and the main one was that he worked on a schedule. Once someone was reported missing, it would be three days before their body turned up and the cycle would start again. Whoever this man was, he clearly enjoyed his patterns, and that is what you found yourself looking for, any pattern you may have missed.

“Working from home again I see?” you practically jumped out of your skin as you heard the deep voice of your roommate behind you, turning around to see his tall frame leaning over the couch.

“For Fucks sake Mingi you almost gave me a heart attack!” you whined, reaching up to lightly smack at him, “what are you doing here anyways I thought you weren’t coming home tonight.” You and Mingi had been friends for as long as you could remember, having met back in high school and staying together through college and your time at the police academy. He was like a brother to you at this point and you trusted him so you didn’t mind if he saw your work, even if he technically wasn’t supposed to. Mingi always found your work to be fascinating and would bug you randomly about cases, which only grew more when you started investigating Jigsaw, though you assumed it was just because you got to bring your work home now. Just as you predicted, he made his way to the other side of the couch and took a seat next to you, picking up one of the crime scene photos to get a better look.

“I was going to stay at Yunhos tonight but something came up and he had to cancel,” Mingi explained, running his thumb over the picture he was holding, “ouch this looks like it would have been painful, what is it?”

“That’s one of Jigsaw's latest traps,” you answered, snatching the photo away from him, “I’m looking through it to see if I can find any missing clues.”

“Have you found anything?”

“Sadly no, he’s very good at covering his tracks. It’s been a month and we still don’t have any leads on this guy, it’s like he’s a ghost or something.” Mingi hummed softly as he continued to look through all the pictures, careful not to mess them up knowing you would yell at him if he did.

“Now I’m no expert but, are you sure you’re only looking for one person?” he asked, catching you off guard.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean all these crime scenes you’ve shown me have been pretty big and this says it only took three days, seems like a lot of work for one person if you ask me.” Mingi explained, “and that’s why your patterns wouldn’t line up like you want them to.” You blinked up at him dumbly for a moment as you processed his words, looking back down at the file you had basically memorized by this point. You didn’t want to admit it, but Mingi had a point.

“You know that’s actually not a bad idea,” you muttered.

“I can be helpful sometimes you know,” he bragged with a laugh, earning himself a punch to the shoulder. He didn’t have time to retaliate though as you were packing up all of your things and rushing towards the door, “Wait where are you going?”

“I need to check on something, don’t wait up for me!” you called back, pulling on your coat and running out the door as he called after you. In your rush you hadn’t realized that you dropped part of your case file on your way out, nor did you notice Mingi pulling out his phone to call someone as he closed the door to your apartment.

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You made it to the crime scene in no time, an abandoned warehouse located just on the edge of the city. You parked your car a bit away and pulled out a flashlight as you made your way inside, ducking under the caution tape and pulling your jacket closer to yourself as you looked around. The clean up crew had gotten most of the scene cleaned by now, but the trap itself was still there. A weirdly broken mess of chains and blades that you wouldn’t have been able to put back together if you wanted to, making you wonder how Jigsaw even came up with the idea in the first place. You shook the thought out of your head and made your way to one of the blades, leaning down to inspect it carefully. It was sharp with a curve to it, but almost messy in design as if it was handmade. To test that theory you took a look at another one and noticed the same thing except this one was thicker and less curved despite being set up the same way. The chains themselves were also a bit sloppy when you looked at them closely, almost as if they had been done in a rush. It wasn’t as clean as Jigsaw's normal work, and now Mingis suggestion that you were dealing with more than one culprit seemed more plausible.

You took your phone out to snap a picture just as the door to the warehouse opened, a new light pouring in and a familiar voice calling your name.

“Over here!” you called back, flashing your light in his direction so he could see you. Quick footsteps made their way towards you before a familiar figure came into view. Park Seonghwa, a senior detective that had transferred over to your department a little over a year ago and assigned as your partner. You had been against the idea at first since your original partner had been killed only a few weeks prior during an investigation gone wrong. The chief had insisted it would be for the best though since you needed the help and Seonghwas cool and more collected nature would balance you out nicely which would prove to be true. Your impulsiveness had driven the older detective crazy a few times, but for the most part the two of you got along well and you could even consider him a friend. He was wearing a long black coat and matching gloves and his hair was long and falling into his face rather than slicked up like normal, probably because he had been at home resting when you called him.

“Would you care to explain why you called me out here in the middle of the night when I haven’t heard from you in the last 48 hours?” Seonghwa questioned, unable to hide the annoyance in his tone.

“I’ll make it up to you but I figured this couldn’t wait,” you muttered, going back to inspect the chain again, “I’m trying to prove a theory about something.”

“That theory being?”

“What if Jigsaw isn't working alone?” you challenged, “what if it’s more than one person, that would explain why nothing lines up.” Seonghwas eyes widened a bit and you could have sworn you heard him mutter something under his breath, “what did you say?”

“Oh nothing,” he brushed you off, “what made you so convinced of this new theory? Did you find something?” You froze for a second, not wanting to expose yourself for letting a member of the general public view the case file.

“Just a hunch,” you lied, “but I mean look at the way this trap was built, it's messy compared to the others, almost as if it was made by someone else.”

“Or maybe Jigsaw just ran out of time and rushed on it,” he argued.

“Can you just humor me for five seconds Seonghwa,” you groaned, “maybe I’m wrong yes but isn’t it at least worth looking into?” Seonghwa rolled his eyes but gave in, walking to the other side of the trap to get a better look. You were too distracted by your own work to pay much attention to him, meticulously looking through every detail of the trap despite not actually knowing what you were looking for. Your instinct was telling you that there was something there you were overlooking, something that was hiding in plain sight, you just had to figure out what that was.

“Hey Y/N,” Seonghwa called out after a few minutes, “I think I found something.” Your head shot up and you quickly dusted yourself off before making your way over. Seonghwa was standing in the corner of the warehouse holding what looked to be a tape recorder. “I found it tucked away over here, may have gotten knocked around during the investigation,” he explained.

“Does it say anything?” you asked, taking the recorder from his hands and pressing the play button. There was only static for a moment before a robotic voice spoke up, like someone was speaking through a voice changer. Despite that, you couldn’t help but feel like the voice seemed familiar to you, but it was hard to tell through the editing.

“Hello Detective Y/L/N,” the tape addressed you, sending a chill through your body, “these past few weeks you have been running around in circles trying to discover who I am. You have been closer to the truth than you realize but you always end up blindsided by your work and, as a result, you overlook the answer that is right in front of you. I have enjoyed silently watching you up until this point but now it is getting quite boring so why don’t we make this a bit more fun? Do you like games, detective? I hope you do because I want to play a game with you. I have left a riddle for you, the answer to which will tell you all you need to know about who I am and what I do. You have 48 hours to find the riddle and tell me the answer or you will find yourself and those closest to you in a very undesirable situation. The timer starts the second this recording ends, let’s hope you are as clever as everyone says you are. Let the game begin.”

You felt your blood run cold as the tape came to an end, barely registering Seonghwas hand on your shoulder as you tried to process everything you just heard. Seonghwa tried talking to you but you ignored him, pushing his hand off and rushing back to your car, your partner not far behind you.

“Where are you going? We should report this to the office first!” he called after you.

“What good is reporting it going to do? You heard him Hwa I have 48 hours to figure out who this guy is or we’re all screwed, I can’t waste time.”

“So what you’re going to rush into something and get yourself killed?” he argued.

“Better than doing nothing and getting everyone else killed,” you snapped back, “now if you’ll excuse me, I need to find this riddle he’s talking about.” Seonghwa called after you again but by this point you had gotten in your car and were already making your way back to your apartment. Part of you felt like going home was a bad idea, but you also couldn’t help but feel like something was pulling you to go there. The same feeling of familiarity that you got hearing the tape returned, making you feel more and more uneasy as you pulled into your apartment complex. Like you knew who Jigsaw was and yet the image of his face was blurred any time you tried to imagine him.

Mingi didn’t seem to be home when you got back, his shoes were gone and the light was off. You couldn’t focus on that though, as your attention was drawn to the stack of papers placed neatly on your coffee table. You carefully walked over and looked through the pile, recognizing pictures from all the different crime scenes you had investigated so far, each one marked with red ink.

‘Y/N, doesn’t this random pattern seem a bit too random?’

‘This is quite close to home don’t you think?’

‘The truth has been in front of you the whole time.’

‘Why do I do what I do?’

‘Did you miss me?’

You ran your hand through your hair as you continued looking through the pictures, realizing that the riddle was basically going to send you on a scavenger hunt. It would take forever for you to go back through each crime scene and look back through everything to find out what he was talking about. Even worse, it was pretty late and you could feel exhaustion slowly taking over you, slouching over the coffee table and eventually laying against it as you fell asleep trying to decipher the riddle.

You were jolted awake by the sound of your phone vibrating, groaning softly as you sat up and reached into your pocket for the device. You half expected it to be a call from Mingi or Seonghwa, but instead you were greeted with the same robotic voice from the night before. Only this time, you were able to hear his actual voice a bit more and it was one you swore you had heard before.

“Good morning Sleeping Beauty, I hope my riddle didn’t keep you up all night,” the voice immediately woke you up, straightening your posture as you looked around.

“Who is this?” you asked.

“Aww I’m almost offended you don’t remember me, we go way back you know,” the voice responded, “I’ve missed you Y/N, and even if you don’t remember me now I know you miss me too.” You paused for a moment at his words before realizing now was not the time to worry about that.

“Why are you doing this?”

“That. my dear detective is for you to find out, you always did enjoy the thrill of a good challenge didn’t you? I figured you would have solved my puzzle by now but since I believe in giving people a fair chance I’ll give you another clue. One of those puzzle pieces doesn’t quite belong, once you find the answer I will be waiting for you in the place we last met, don’t keep me waiting Doll.” With that the call ended, causing you to groan in frustration and toss your phone to the side.

“I’ve had about enough of these damn games,” you huffed, rubbing your hands over your eyes. You looked through the pictures again before one in particular caught your eye. It wasn’t one of the Jigsaw crime scenes, but instead it was a picture of an older house, one that you recognized from your last murder investigation with your old partner, San. The memories slowly came back to you and that’s when it finally clicked for you, the puzzle and the reason the voice sounded so familiar to you. That was impossible though, San was dead, you had been at the hospital with him when the doctors told you there was nothing they could do. There was no way that San was still alive, and yet you would recognize his voice anywhere. Shaking your head, you grabbed your phone and stood up, calling Seonghwa and telling him to meet you at the house in question as you left your apartment and got in your car. The whole ride there you tried ignoring the feeling of dread that came over you, hoping that your intuition was wrong.

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Seonghwa was already at the house before you got there, leaning against the wall with a blank expression. “I take it you found the answer to your riddle?” he asked as you walked past him, leading him inside.

“As much as I hope I am wrong I think I did,” you confessed, “and if I’m right the clue we are looking for should be here somewhere.” Seonghwa stood still in the middle of the room as you frantically looked around, digging through his pocket and following your movements with his eyes.

“This isn’t one of the crime scenes,” he pointed out, “what exactly are we looking for?”

“Jigsaw said to find him at the place we last met and this place was the only one pictured that wasn’t one of the crime scenes,” you explained. Seonghwa hummed softly at your answer, but you ignored him as you continued looking around.

“Why here then, what’s so special about this place?” you froze for a moment at the question, an action that didn’t go unnoticed.

“This was the last place I investigated with my first partner,” you answered, “he was shot during the investigation and I thought he was dead but I’m starting to think I was wrong.”

“You think it’s him,” Seonghwa stated rather than asked, to which you nodded.

“I don’t know why he would do such a thing, but it all lines up.” Seonghwa sighed and glanced down at his watch before making his way towards you.

“I’m surprised you know, you solved the riddle faster than we thought you would, we’re a bit ahead of schedule.” His words made your blood run cold, freezing as your head turned to look at him.

“What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry about this Y/N,” Seonghwa apologized, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a syringe, “just know I don’t make the rules, I’m just the delivery guy.” Before you could react to his words he had grabbed you and injected you with what you assumed was some kind of anesthesia, your body going limp in his hold almost immediately and your vision going black. The last thing you remember hearing was his voice and footsteps approaching before you completely lost consciousness.

When you returned to consciousness the first thing that you noticed was that you couldn’t move. Your arms and legs were handcuffed to a chair that also appeared to be bolted to the floor so you couldn’t tip it over. Tugging at your restraints, you glanced around to find that you were in some sort of workshop, various trap parts and gadgets tossed around multiple workbenches. At the front of the room were what appeared to be security monitors, each watching different parts of the city that you could just barely make out.

“I have to hand it to you Y/N,” a voice said from behind you, “the last detective didn’t make it nearly as far.” The sound of footsteps echoed through the room before a figure appeared in your vision, wearing a full body red and black hood. Even though his face was covered by the hood, you could feel the presence of your former partner.

“How, I thought you were dead,” you whispered, not sure what to feel at the moment. In any other circumstance you would be over the moon to know he was alive, but how were you supposed to feel knowing he was the serial killer you had been anxiously tracking down. Shock, betrayal, anger, sadness, confusion, all of these emotions swirled through your brain like an endless whirlpool, pulling you in deeper and nearly bringing tears to your eyes.

“Everyone did,” San replied, turning away from you to face one of his work benches, “the doctors said it was a miracle, that no one thought I would make it through the night let alone make a full recovery.” You could hear him messing with something, but couldn’t see what it was, struggling to look past his shoulder as he continued talking, “I tried to find you after you know? I thought you were the only one left that cared about me, and yet even you managed to turn your back on me.”

“I always cared about you,” you argued, “that’s why I’m trying to understand why San, why did you do this?” It was at this point that he finally turned to face you, pulling the hood back so you could see him properly. He looked almost the same as you remembered, but there was a cold gaze in his eyes that almost made him feel like a stranger. This wasn’t the warm hearted and cheerful person you used to consider a friend, he was a killer. Despite this, however, you couldn’t help yourself from falling for his familiarity, almost as if you could convince yourself the old San was still in there, somewhere.

“You never realize just how valuable life is until you are inches away from death,” he explained, “the adrenaline and the fight to survive, it almost feels like you are being reborn. The more I thought about it, the more I realized how corrupt the world we live in truly is, because no one really knows how to appreciate the life they are given until it is nearly taken from them. You may not understand it now but trust me my methods will help make the world a better place.”

“You’re killing people because you want them to appreciate life?” you questioned, wondering if he was actually being serious. There was no way a person's mind could be that twisted, right?

“You think I’m a killer?” San asked, not needing a verbal response since your glare was enough confirmation, “that’s where you’re wrong you know. I have not killed anyone, all of my games are survivable as long as the player has the will to fight for it. Those who failed the games basically killed themselves.” You wanted to argue that putting people in these death traps still made him a killer but he cut you off, “Seven people have won so far, seven people who had that will to live and had the chance to be reborn. They understand what it truly means to be alive and now they help me spread my message. You may not understand me now, but I really do hope that you will be the next.”

“So what, am I the next person that gets to be put in one of your death traps then?” you groaned, tugging at your restraints. San pouted a bit but shook his head.

“Your game began the minute you took the case from Detective Kim,” he explained, “you and I always seemed to have an understanding so I had hoped you would pick up on my clues and join without a fight, but you were far too stubborn to listen. Eventually I had to cut my losses so I had my apprentices plant fake evidence to finally get you here, it was the only way.” Your heart dropped a bit at the word apprentices, your mind immediately going back to Seonghwa and how he was the one who brought you here.

“So you’re telling me the whole time,” you trailed off.

“Seonghwa was working for me, yes, Mingi as well, they both survived my games and agreed to help with the cause and when you took over my case I knew I could use them to guide you in the right direction,” San explained. He took a moment to glance at a clock on the wall before sighing and making his way over to you. San rested his hands on the arms of the chair and used them to prop himself up so he was leaning over you, “As much as I have enjoyed our little chat I’m afraid we do not have much time. I really do like you Y/N so I will give you a choice. Join me and together we can help change the world for the better.”

“And if I refuse?” you challenged.

“Well then I guess we’ll have to play a game,” he hummed, leaning away from you, “The second I walk out of this room it will lock and a timer will start. Behind you are two doors, each with a different combination, one door will lead you to the exit, and the other will lead you to me. If you choose to leave then you will be free but you will lose your chance to catch me. If you choose to come after me, then you have a chance to learn the truth at the risk of your freedom. The combinations are hidden in this room and you will have exactly one hour to find them and leave through the door of your choosing, and trust me you don’t want to know what will happen if you run out of time.” San chuckled softly before pulling away and walking behind you, “This is your last chance to accept my offer Y/N, I would hate to lose you like this.” He waited for a moment but when you didn’t respond he sighed, “Very well, let the game begin.” You felt him place something into your hand, which you quickly realized was a key, before the door slammed shut and San was gone.

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It didn’t take you long to unlock yourself, taking a second to rub your wrists as you stood up and made your way cautiously around the room. You did your best to stay calm and not look at the clock as you examined the doors and then looked around for the combinations, which you quickly realized were hidden on his tools. The question was, do you free yourself and turn your back on the case, or do you risk it all and try to go after San. The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to just get out of there and not look back, and yet you quickly found yourself moving on autopilot. Before you could really process what you were doing, you had entered the code for the door labeled “Truth” and ran through it, stepping into a dark hallway and letting the door lock behind you.

You took a moment to compose yourself before heading forward, placing your hands against the walls to help feel your way through the space. All the doors were locked until you came to one at the very end that was cracked open, revealing what looked to be a makeshift office space, with nothing but a desk and filing cabinet in the room. You poked your head through first, looking around for any sign of life before slowly stepping inside and making your way to the desk, only to gasp as you felt another body pin you to it.

“I knew you would come after me,” San whispered, spinning you around so that you were facing him. Your body was pressed between his and the desk, his arms caging you on either side as your eyes locked.

“I can’t let you get away with this,” you argued, trying to wiggle away from him but San was stronger so he held you in place.

“Come on Doll, you and I both know that’s not why you came after me,” he teased, “maybe it was at first but if that was the case now you would be fighting me harder.” He was right, even if he was stronger you knew you could at least hold your own enough to get him away or subdue him long enough to call for help. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to actually fight him off, struggling against him enough to save your pride but not enough to actually push him off. “So tell me,” San continued, “why did you really come after me, was it because you were curious about my work? Or, was it because deep down you missed me?” Honestly, you weren’t even sure if you knew the answer, your body having reacted before your mind could catch up.

“This isn’t right,” you argued, reaching your hands up to push at his shoulders.

“And yet here we are,” he teased, backing up enough to wrap his arms around you and pull you closer to him. Your bodies pressed together and your arms instinctually made their way around his neck which made him chuckle. “I always knew you were special, you understood me in a way that no one else ever did. Stay with me, nothing will be able to come between us.” San leaned down until your lips were centimeters apart, his breath tickling your lips with every word. You tried not to give into him, knowing that this was wrong, but you also couldn’t deny the thrill that ran through you just from being near him. You had always cared for San when you two were partners, hell there was even a time where you could argue that you did have a crush on him. That was back then however, when he was the sweet and easy going detective that decorated his desk with mini plushies and would whine if you forgot to get him a pastry on your morning coffee runs. This version of San wasn’t like that, even if the allure was still there, he was cold, twisted, and a killer.

“I can’t do this,” you argued, “you’re not the man I once cared about.” You tried to turn your head away from him, but he gripped your chin to force you to look at him.

“Yes I am, behind all of this it is still me and I can prove that to you,” he whispered, “just let me show you.” When you shook your head again he huffed, loosening his grip for a moment before it tightened again, “Fine then, how about another game?”

“I already won your stupid game though!” you challenged.

“Yet you still haven’t learned,” he fought back, “the least you can do is give me a chance to convince you. If you don’t give in then I will go with you to the station and turn myself in, but if I win then you quit being a detective for good and you stay with me.” You gave him a questioning look, at this point more than positive that he had gone insane. However, if playing his dumb games meant putting an end to Jigsaw, then you were more than willing to oblige.

“Alright fine, deal,” you reluctantly agreed. You only had a moment to register Sans smirk before he was pulling you against him again and connecting your lips. One hand stayed pressed against your back to keep you against him, while the other tangled itself in your hair, tugging slightly to get a reaction out of you. The kiss wasn’t rough or forced like you had expected, instead it was gentle and passionate, like he wanted to take his time with you. His lips were surprisingly soft against yours, and you began to slowly melt against his movements. You kissed him back and allowed him to have more control, whining softly against his lips when he tugged a bit harder at your hair. Your own hands trailed down his body, tracing his shoulders and chest for a few moments before daring to go a bit lower. San groaned as he felt you palm him over his robe, tightening his grip on your hair and deepening the kiss as his own hand reached down to grab at your thighs and your ass.

All your resolve melted away at his touch and you found yourself giving into him completely, relishing in the way he invaded your senses. All rationality had left completely, replaced with an unusual desire as San explored your body. As desperate as he was, his touches remained soft and left you craving more whenever he pulled his hand away. San walked you back until you reached the desk, lifting you up enough to sit you on top of it and slotting himself between your thighs as he finally pulled away. You only had a second to catch your breath before you were pushed back slightly and pinned down by your hands. San hovered above you with a knowing smirk, taking a moment to enjoy your flustered expression before leaning down to whisper directly in your ear.

“Looks like I won. Game Over!”

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raz-writes-the-thing · 4 months

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Unbidden (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Dark!Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader 18+ (no smut) / requests are open

Summary: The Doctor's gone too far this time.

Fic type: thriller/horror- please note there are descriptions of gore, violence and dark shit. no smut. I mean it, this is dark. Please heed the warnings.

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 @yeethaw13 @complimentary-breadbasket @thekirbishow @stilestotherescue @madspads @catlynharper@merrilark @jaziona92 @yeehawbrothers @mochabonesblog @iguirisu (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’re in shock. You must be. There’s no other explanation for the way you’re shrieking and laughing and crying all at the same time. You can’t even hear the noises coming out of your mouth- you’re just… distantly aware of the burn in your throat and the tears streaking through the grime and the muck and the blood on your cheeks.

It’s spotty. All over. All over you, all over him, all over the ground and the walls. Red, crimson Dalmatian patterns that in almost any other situation would look like a pretty art piece. It still was, you supposed.

And it was like he hadn’t even noticed your reaction, bringing the blade down over and over and over and over into the now corpses’ chest, blood splattering everywhere with every single movement he made. Each time the blade came down felt like a physical blow to your chest. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Gods, he must be twenty stabs in by now, there’s nothing left but a big gaping cavity that reminds you of something you’d see in a cheesy zombie movie where his ribcage and upper organs used to be. But this isn’t a two-bit movie full of laughs and cheap effects. This is real. You can smell it. You can smell the gore, the iron, the horror. You can fucking smell it. You didn’t realise stuff like this would smell.

It feels like an out-of-body experience as you tear your eyes away to look down at your hands. They’re shaking uncontrollably, and as he rips the blade out of the corpse again, another splatter of blood appears over your fingers along with a chunk of organ that could be anything from heart to lungs to a kidney. You can feel your eyes bulging. You still can’t hear anything. Not even a ringing in your ears or a bassy vibration. Not even the jack-rabbit pump of your heartbeat.

There’s just… nothing. You can’t hear anything right now.

Distantly, you’re aware of the Doctor slowing down and eventually coming to a halt, giving the corpse that had been a person some fucking semblance of peace, finally. Your gaze filters unbidden through your outstretched fingers to find him watching you, something dark and ravenous in his eyes that scares the absolute fucking shit out of you.

You stumble back and away from him when he makes a sudden move, blade dropping to the ground in a sticky clatter. He’s covered in blood. Head to fucking toe. His white button-up under his pretty suit is unsalvageable. It’s almost black with blood, and it sticks to him in a way that you shouldn’t be paying attention to right now. You’re pretty sure it might be your brain trying to focus on literally anything else but the reverse Pollock on the ground in front of you.

The Doctor is up and cornering you in seconds. You barely have a second to register it before you’re stumbling backwards and he’s pressing you into the wall. Your hearing comes back with painful clarity all at once, and the Doctor’s voice suddenly has sound to go with the movement of his lips.

“See what I do for you, love? Oh yes, all for you. You’re mine, darling, I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

You don’t mention how for a moment there you genuinely thought he was going to gut you, too. He’d probably like the sight of your organs slipping through your fingers, actually. He’d probably find it hot, and beat off over y- no, stop it.

He wouldn’t hurt you… right?

You circled his neck with your arms, feeling the drops of blood seep into your sweater and cling to your skin. He was still murmuring sweet nothings into your ear, and if you were elsewhere, you might actually find them comforting.

But all you managed to let sink in as your eyes watched the blood pool larger and larger around the body on the floor was that you were his.

And he would never, ever- let you go.

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thesharktanksdriver · 1 year

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Sharky throws hands Fins (Platonic)

Part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5

@crazyfandomist Maybe a request!! Sharky goes out on a mission with them and they see Sharky doing the up most terrifying take down along with a good scare of when they get hit by a bullet? Of course Sharky is fine but now they’re in lockdown till they’re fully healed

You asked and you shall receive. Really like this request and decided to go the full mile. You guys can expect some more Sharky stuff with shadow company and eventually some other stuff.

If there’s one thing that the entire squad of 141 can agree on it’s that your a bit of a wild card

A wild shark as Soap would joke in the heli as it landed and everyone felt the true weight of their guns now in their hands

They knew you were rambunctious, a bit of a hot head and maybe a bit fucked in the head from the shit you constant spouted out

But this was a whole new level of bullshitery that they had to unpack

It all started out as a relatively normal mission that turned into yet another battlefield

Intel was wrong and everyone walked into a trap that lead them all to scatter for cover

Like the others you ran, your smaller form being able to be somewhat ignored by the enemies as dust clouded the air

Sadly though even with this you got shot in the scuffle and now had to deal with the pain that rumbled through you

Adrenaline was kicking in now but you still took the time to try and deal with you wound as best you could with limited resources

Seems like Ghosts’s gorilla warfare class actually came to good use unlike algebra like your teaches insisted

Hushed cursed words fall from your mouth as you climb the stairs of an old decrepit home, carefully placing each step in case of any trip wires

“Kid you alright?!” Seems like your com wasn’t broken, that’s good but what isn’t is the amount of worrying that was gonna make Price’s hair go grey. “I’m fine, I’m fine.” You try to hid the smile hidden in your voice as you role your eyes. You hear a sigh of relief on the other end, you continue through the empty home before getting to the top floor that contained some extra ammo that you nabbed.

“Where are you?”

“Old house. Looks like something from a horror movie?, Texas chainsaw vibes honestly. Wonder if they’ll have the dead teenagers as well”

You get a array of different responses over the live that makes you giggle as you look out the broken window

Seems like they’ve made good work, most of who’s left are dropping like flies to the shared effort of everyone else

A once yellow and dusty ground painted a rouge red by a liquid your so familiar with now

Through a gust of wind you notice a form

You instantly recognize it’s not price, too small, not ghost, not as bulky, not Gaz, not as slim, and not soap, doesn’t have the swagger in his step

Oh and they aren’t wearing the same uniform

That was probably a better identifier but by now you had memorialized your teammates and it was easier to identify people by that alone

He had his back turned to the house, hiding behind a small rusted over car as he gazed out its windows with his gun raised

Oh hell no

You get closer to the window you spied out of, pulling out your knife as you placed a foot on the windowsill

You could just shot the guy, it would be quick and easy but you decided to bite the bullet today

You’d seen ghost do something similar once and had to admit it was pretty badass

Probably something someone would put into some “top ten badass military moments” list by watchmojo or something

He’s unfocused and not paying attention to his surroundings

He’s dead before he even realizes you jumped from the second story window

Knife plunging into him as you wrap yourself around him, legs squeezing his waist and one arm pulling his head back allowing his throat to be open season

Like a scythe reaping a crop, he’s left falling to the ground with the spoil of your reaping

A curtain of red spouting from his neck as it stained the ground and your blade

You get up with terracotta coloured dust sticking to your fingertips like cheeto dust with a mixture of blood

Your then meet with your slack jawed team mates all of whom glanced from his corpse to you, to his corpse and then to your bleeding arm

Shit

Safe to say they all have varying reactions and are all not very happy about you lying about being ok

Ghost is a mixture of annoyance, anger and some slight sliver of pride

He’s not happy about you lying about not being harmed in the events of the attack

For fucks sake it could’ve hit something vital and you could’ve died before they got there

It makes him realize how your reliance on yourself is both a blessing and curse that they need to find a balance on

But on the other hand….nice

Listen, he’s still bloody pissed and is giving you a good old British style verbal smack down but he has to admit he’s very proud at watching that takedown

Yours was slightly adjusted to suit you better but it worked like a charm

Makes the old man proud even if he’s still vibrating from anger

It kinda makes him worried at the same time though since it shows your being influenced by him

He’s afraid you’ll become like him, lose that annoyingly bright smile of yours that never failed to lift him from the trenches of his mind

He knows he can’t protect you from the hardships of this job, the crusted blood on you is a reminder of that

But, keyword is but, he will do everything in his power to protect the one last semblance of good in his life

After he simmers a bit he eventually ends up pulling you into his arms, hands slightly shaking

His grip is strong as he holds you, a hand gently maneuvering itself to cradle your head carefully. As if your made of glass. “Please don’t do that again” he sounds painfully fragile, a thin wooden house that can be destroyed by a simple breeze. “I can’t lose you kid. So please don’t do stupid shit like that again or become like me…aight Sharky?” it sounds less like a command and more like him pleading. You pull back slightly and nod, watching as hidden eyes that were surrounded by black voids became slightly wet. It smudges the black makeup around his eyes as you return the hug.

Price as you can expect is pissed and worried like ghost

Like he’s going full on disappointed dad mode as holds your hand in med bay as a nurse removes the bullet

Your grounded for the next 2 weeks

No amount of whining will be able to guilt nor change his mind. Don’t test him cause he may extend it if you try to weasel your way out of this

He frequently checks up on your wound making sure it’s healing correctly

Him along with Laswell are the ones who help you change bandages and disinfect it from time to time

Doesn’t want to admit it but he Almost had a heart attack when he realized you were shot and still proceeded to jump out a 2 story building

100% pulls you into his office after you got your wound properly patched up and have you a serious talking to

It’s moreso about why you had lied to them about being fine when you were short

It’s then on like ghost he realizes this could become a reoccurring issue if he doesn’t do anything about it

He personally teaches you how to properly treat yourself with limited supplies

And also teaches you the importance of relying on your teammates

Plus how important it is to not ignore what can look like a simple bullet wound

He probably opens up a bit, telling you an experience he had when he was younger. How something similar happened to a friend of his who thought it was nothing but paid for it in the end

It sticks better than most of his angry comments since you can see genuine fear in his eyes

You nod, getting a sigh in return from him as he settles down in his cushioned leather chair

Cigar smoke lingers up in the air as Price taps it against his ashtray, you notice that there’s more ash than usual piled up in it. “Do you get why it’s important now?” His voice is stern as usual but you can see a hint of vulnerability in it, shining through the cracks of his built up walls. “Yes sir” at this be nods, a smile finally finding a place on his face as he adds “good. other than that you did good out there, great takedown. now your still in lockdown but you allowed to train with some limitations”. The praise makes you smile and has a surge of pride claw at you.

Soap is low key still kinda concerned but he’d be a hypocrite to say he hadn’t done the same before

Only difference is that he hasn’t gotten caught…often

He swears Ghost is like a fucking blood hound cause that’s the only reason why he’s been caught hiding a wound

On the way back to base he’s two seconds away from complimenting your takedown until he gets the side eye from both Price and Ghost which shits him up

Well shuts him up until he visits you that night

Kinda has to sneak to you room but once he gets there he’s full on pat on the back and taking nonstop

He suggests you teach him lol

Probably jokes at one point that ghost is jealous that you do it better and that why he’s all pissy

While he isn’t upset about what happened he still suggest not to be stupid (like him) and hide stuff like that often

He tries to convince Price to get body cams but he shuts that down sadly

No watchmojo top ten sadly nor one of those military propaganda TikTok’s

To make you possibly feel better about getting shot and getting a scar from it he tells you about all the scars he got

Going into detail with each and maybe making up a few fake stories to make them more interesting rather than “I feel down the stairs and then laid there face down for 15 minutes before their found me”

Though to be honest that would probably be funnier but he has his pride to keep intact

Pokes your wound which leads you to slap his hand

During your grounding he gets you some dvd’s and give you his Netflix password (despite the fact you already have Netflix)

You cancel your subscription and now mooch off of him

Your profile is named “parasite” due to this

Sends you a lot of TikTok’s that he thinks will lift your mood

Likes to spend his free time In Your room in your mountain of shark and ocean animals plushies

For once he lets you play with his hair

Your hands rank through Soaps hair as the sound of a random Netflix documentary plays in the background. He’s leaned back, head resting in your hands as you use hair clips and hair tied to mess with his hair. He lets out a small chuckle when you mumble that “i bet with this look you’d be the prettiest princess of them all”, it also receives an eye roll from him as he clutches one of your many shark plushies.

Gaz is kinda a mixture of soap and Price. Like that was rad as fuck but at the same time wtf are you doing walking around with a gunshot wound

Honestly the most neutral about it

Like he pats you on the shoulder for how impressive that was but he’s also telling you please not ignore wounds next time

Like Soap he visits you during your grounding and makes sure to tell you what happened

Probably tries to lessen the blow by being “nah nothing much had been happening on those missions your not missing much”

Give you free reign to go in his room and play on his Xbox while he’s gone

Might’ve even bought a few extra games to keep you busy

Also delivers snacks

He constantly checks to make sure your wound is ok despite the fact you told him Price and Laswell check up on it

Listen he’s just worried and can’t sleep easy after seeing a soldier a year back getting a nasty infection and dying

Doesn’t tell you about this though since he doesn’t want to worry you about it

He doodles on your skin in his free time with crayola wash markers

Their all fun little drawings of the team, their actually well down in a cute but simple kinda way

You might be tempted to actually get it tattooed

And might’ve done it impulsively so when he got back he’s confused as to why one of his drawings seemingly stuck

When he finds out though he slam it cries cause he finds it really heartfelt

Seems like this forced vacation wasn’t bad after all except for ghost bonking you in the head for getting something like that done without a second thought

Ghost admittedly does think it’s a cute tattoo and has a nice meaning but still, he urges you to tell at least him next time so he can take you to his tattoo artist

Gaz now colours in your tattoo with those same Crayola markers for fun with a giant smile

“Fuck I can’t believe you actually got this done” he says taking out a blue blueberry scented marker, the smell is strongly synthetic but it brings back a lot of memories. “Worth it though!, I now have your hat permanently on my body” he makes a face from that which makes you laugh, his brows crinkling up ever so slightly.

“Please don’t phrase it like that “

#simon ghost riley x reader #platonic #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #captain price x reader #gaz x reader #cod x reader #modern warfare x reader #modern warefare 2 x reader #Sharky y/n

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