#2. i was fucking BLIND for TWO MONTHS
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one of the oddest arguments i've ever gotten into was like. i had agreed to give a dude a chance. we were on a first date. and he got. just. so mad. because i had told him i read about 2-5 books a week.
but he found out it was actually that i listen to 2-5 audiobooks. he was dead set on the idea - that's not reading, it's just listening. that i was lying, somehow, by implying i'd "read" the book.
language has a beautiful ability to adapt over time, particularly in the face of technology. when i "connect to the internet" i'm referencing the oldschool method of literally plugging into the internet - which i very rarely physically do. i roll down my window, which is a reference to the circular mechanical action it used to take. hell - the floppy disc remains our resolute save file icon. when i say i "ran to the store," nobody expects me to actually run - and what my version of running to the store looks like and your version are probably pretty different.
i told the guy, baffled: i look at things through glasses, that's still seeing. nobody complains i'm filtering the image.
he says: that's not the same and you know it.
i use audiobooks because i have adhd, and it makes it so i can actually focus. i am using it to help a medically diagnosed condition.
language also has a really cool ability: when we read something, our brains look at a word and make an image. when we hear a story, our brains hear a word and make an image. whether we hear it or read it - the word means the same thing, written or spoken. there is no quantifiable difference in the knowledge-encoding experience - i still happily hallucinate while i'm listening.
and i just kind of stared at him while he was telling me that "claiming" i had "actually read" a book that i had actually-listened-to was lying
and my only baffled response was like: "... are you gatekeeping the experience of... reading?"
#1. do you think someone who listens to 2-5 books a week DOESNT read with her eyes?#2. i was fucking BLIND for TWO MONTHS#so YEAH maybe im SENSITIVE#3. shut the FUCK up i am not DESTROYING SOCIETY by being like ''hahaha this experience is basically the same for me''#i am still fucking engaging with the literature dude#4. i consider it reading. die mad about it#5. this is just a personal note but they are LITERALLY equivalent to me#bc i mean i guess 7k posts in i should probably finally admit#i have a lowkey form of synesthesia#to be fair i didn't know until like this year when my therapist was like#''... you WHAT''#but like when im talking i see words and when im writing i legit hear them#like HEAR THEM#i just thought everyone had that#thats called thinking#but it turns out the fact that i sometimes mishear a word and write down what i misheard#means maybe i am fuckt a little in my head#anyway obvi when i read i hear the word too#i cAN sometimes see other people's words but it's usually just my own#and i was like#(again)#thats just like how . people talk#but it turns out if u sometimes misread what you're supposed to be saying#something might be . uhhhhhhhh#not normal#fun fact.#it turns out (i havent googled but she said)#that it's not UNUSUAL for neurodiverse people to have like#SOME lowkey form of synesthesia#but we only associate it with REALLY severe cases so we just assume like .... couldn't be me
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I see a lot of people joking about the adhd thing of "I have a appointment/phone call at 3pm, guess I won't do anything all day!"
But no one seems to make the connection that it's a time blindness thing. One of the symptoms of ADHD is not having a good and accurate sense of time. And not doing stuff prior to an event with a hard deadline is an obvious coping mechanism for that.
Can I go to the store? It's 10am and the appointment is at 3pm. How long does going to the store take? An hour? Three hours? Five hours? I DON'T KNOW!
I get anxious trying to do things before appointments because I'm aware that I don't know how long those things take, and that if I think I do, I may be very wrong. Too often I've been like "hey I can walk to the corner store and grab a drink, that'll take like 15 minutes!" and then an hour later I get back and whoops my rice has burnt.
Plus there's also the fact that ADHD people know that motivation and focus is a two-edged sword.
Like, let's say you decide to play a video game. You've got time, you can pause/save whenever, so this should be a perfect fit to make good use of your waiting-time. So you start playing and WHOOPS you get really focused for some reason today (because people with ADHD do not get to pick when their brain decides to focus) and the next time you look at the clock it's 2:49 and you haven't showered or dressed and the appointment is 30 minutes away. Fuck. (you could have set an alarm, but now you're asking people with the forgetting-things-and-time-ignoring condition to remember it set alarms)
And with motivation, it can be almost worse. Instead of playing a game, you so something useful or creative. You clean your room or fix your plumbing or write a story or draw a picture. And suddenly it's great. Your brain is firing on all cylinders. You've got all the motivation you can ask for, and you are FLYING. the ideas are brilliant, your hands are nimble, you're getting stuff done you've been putting off for weeks or months. And then the alarm goes off. Time to go to your appointment. Fuck.
You drive there, your brain still full of ideas and plans. But by the time you get back, the motivation is gone. You may still have the ideas but you don't have the drive to write them down. You can't force yourself to do it. Your sink is still in pieces. Your room is half-cleaned, and you have to shove all the sorted clothes into one big bin just so you have somewhere to sleep. You've left things half finished again, in a cycle that has been repeating your whole fucking life. It seems sometimes that nothing ever gets finished.
So next time you don't even start. There's not time. You've been burnt too many times. Why add another half-completed project to your pile of shame?
My point is that people seem to be going "lol I can't do anything all day if I have an appointment at 3pm" like this is a quirky "oh I'm so scatterbrained!" weirdness they alone have, and not a major complication of a disabling mental illness.
(and that's not even getting into the secondary effects. If you know that having an appointment ruins your whole damn day, you're going to avoid them. Even when it's things like "going to that party" or "meeting your friends for a drink/game" or "going to a movie with that cute girl from your math class". Things you should enjoy. Things that'd help you be social. Things that make you feel human.)
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play pretend
a ‘partners in crime’ installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
words: 5.1k (holy shit)
summary: (established relationship…at the end of it lol) suggestive in nature but sfw , underage drinking what do you expect from a dionysus!kid, mentions of vomit The one where Mr. D catches you two in the act, but you and him aren't exactly together yet. Everyone knows you two are together except the both of you, apparently. It’s hard to not run away from something good. (luke castellan x dionysus!reader)
a/n: happy first i love you to you and luke! yall are together now! crazy! thanks for being patient during my lil vacay :)) its been a little over a month since i started the trouble!verse!! ilysm
(posted 2/23 betad by my one and only @mrsaluado )
—
There’s something you’ve always loved about mornings.
Waking up with the first rays of light peeking through your window, the sun’s arms stretched around your sleepy frame pressing warm, featherlike kisses across the expanse of your back.
It almost feels real.
Apollo must be feeling generous today, the heat of a warm breath brushing against your neck, and your alarm sounding an awful lot like soft snores. You ought to get up and close the blinds; it’s too damn bright. But your weighted blanket feels immensely heavier this morning as it envelopes your senses—smelling of citrus, musk, and a tangible dream of last night that seems to have stayed in bed with you. As soon as you try to untangle your legs from below the covers, warmth presses you deeper into the mattress with a…familiar sigh.
Your eyes pop open.
Quick and calculated, your eyes survey the surroundings of your room—the mop of licorice tresses nestled against the crook of your neck, both of your clothes scattered on the floor, as well as the alarm clock and a few other things knocked off your nightstand from Luke’s enthusiasm. The quiet of the morning is quickly disrupted when you hear two pairs of little hands pounding on your door, and for a moment you wonder if this is one of those hyper-realistic dreams that you don’t want to wake up from.
“Sissy! You missed breakfast,” Pollux bellows as Castor continues to slap his palms on the wood like a bongo drum.
The sheets start rustling as you squirm out of Luke’s grasp, bumping against the muscular ridges of his torso which brings him back to consciousness.
“Be out in a minute!” you slur against his shoulder, and he opens his eyes blearily at the sight of you sprawled over him to try to reach the alarm clock on the ground. As his eyes focus he can’t help but admire the planes of your body, soft and pretty in the morning light like a painting come to life. Waking up in one’s company has never felt more right, even with the usual chatter of campers wafting through the open window. Here in the swaddle of pink and purple sheets, you two are something singular—not camp counselors with jobs to do, not demigods wanting to achieve glory, just your angelface and his trouble.
It’s intimate, even if it doesn’t have a label, him and you.
His large hand catches you at the plush of your tummy when you almost topple off the bed.
“Shit. Shit! They’re not kidding—Luke, it’s 9:30!”
You fling yourself upwards and off of him, clambering to find clothes from your dresser and tossing him his from the day prior. His belt buckle almost hits him in the eye and he groans, flinching as it smacks him in the cheek.
“Gods, woman. You think camp will crumble because you slept in for once?”
The glare you throw in his direction is his answer, so Luke slowly tugs his pants on–though he quickly gets distracted by a half-dressed vision of you rummaging around your room.
“Castellan.”
He grins like a little kid in a candy store, and to that, you throw his shoe at him.
Idiot.
Too bad you’re in deep shit for sleeping in.
“SISSY!!!”
“IN A FUCKING MINUTE, THING ONE AND TWO!”
Screaming at the closed door as you throw some shorts on, you spin around and bump into Luke who’s already got his hands around your waist as his nose nudges the space between your jaw and your neck.
“You were supposed to leave before daybreak,” you sigh, a smile creeping onto your lips, “if you did as you were told, I wouldn’t have slept in.” Fake annoyance leaks through your voice though he knows it not to be true, he wouldn’t be able to latch onto you like this if you were. His nose continues to graze up towards your ear as he presses a kiss behind it—like how you both deal with your feelings and the truth nowadays, a hidden secret kept for both of your eyes only.
“Dunno trouble…I can get used to waking up next to you,” he mumbles. You can feel the imprint of his smile searing into your skin.
Is this what going into cardiac arrest feels like? Genuine question.
You’ve both been sneaking around for the past few weeks, but neither of you has made anything official. They say it’s easier to fall for a friend rather than a stranger—to know someone so intimately (and now in more ways than one) should make falling the easy part.
But that’s kind of the problem.
Luke is your best friend—both knowing how the other feels from a single glance, so pray tell to all the gods on Olympus, why has this boy not asked you out yet? Whether this is all for fun or anything resembling a four-letter word that makes your brain go fuzzy, you think you’d rather swim in the Styx instead of putting yourself at a disadvantage. Love is scary, even if it’s Luke.
Especially since it’s Luke.
His words make you stop in your tracks and you can hear your heart pounding in your ears, so you’re not dead… But the noise turns out to be one of the twins banging on the door again, and now you look like an asshole for taking too long to respond. Luke’s awkwardly looking at you now, tongue in cheek.
“Last warning,” one of your brothers teasingly croons, before the other continues, “Dad’s almost at the door! Your boyfriend’s gotta go or he’s dead…”
Your eyes widen in fear and Luke loosens his grip on your waist, unsure if you look like you’ve seen a ghost at the thought of him being called your boyfriend or the very real possibility of getting caught by your dad.
What a way to go, you two.
“Get out. You gotta go now, out the window!”
You start pushing him towards the windowpane, your palms pressing against his marked-up and very bare back.
Holy shit, he still doesn’t have a shirt and he looks like he got mauled by a hellhound.
You can practically see the grapevines start to flourish outside your window.
He’s too close for comfort, way too damn close, you think, but can’t reason if you mean Luke or your dad.
“Seriously?”
He straddles the open window, and Luke doesn’t know what to feel about you pushing him away—it’s a feeling that’s foreign to him since he’s always by your side.
“Sorry. I’ll make it up to you later angelface,” you mumble, pulling him in for a mind-numbing kiss that almost makes him slip off the rain gutter, and by the time you’ve already closed the window he realizes he’s shirtless in broad daylight, feet hopping off the siding of the cabin.
This couldn’t get any worse (oh but it does in a second), and you’re definitely the asshole this time around.
Your dad barges into your room by the time you throw a shirt on.
“Kid, what the hell? You sick?”
Mr. D furrows his brows at the sight of you, face flushed as you simper up a lie about your head hurting. It’s weak for an excuse and even if you usually don’t have a tell—he’s the master of this game, so he pretends to not notice you chuck a shirt out the window when you open it to make it less stuffy.
He raises an eyebrow in disapproval when you both notice your shirt is too big on you.
Oh, he’s onto you, applying heat like a brand to make his only daughter squirm; Mr. D peeks out the window to see a certain Luke Castellan stomping across the path wearing your cropped camp tee—and concludes that if there’s anyone in hot water right now, Luke must be drowning in it.
—
Acting natural is a bit harder for you today, and it feels like a cruel and unusual punishment worth the deepest pit of the Underworld as you scribble words onto a page that won’t even be comprehensible once you read them after this meeting is over. You’ve been catching up on work all day (also known as the impossible task of avoiding Luke) to show your dad you haven’t been slacking off. But a late start meant you fumbled through your day and it was obvious to everyone that you were off your game. Archery ran into javelin throwing, capture the flag teams weren’t ready and had to be made on the spot, there were no new shipments delivered to the camp store, and the infirmary ran out of ambrosia— which were all things that you were expected to coordinate.
Gods, you’re getting too old for this shit.
And if you, the head counselor everyone depends on, is off her game, well—everyone’s on edge. The Stolls even dared to ask you if the world was ending today and you were less than impressed.
Being in love sure feels like it is.
The only thing left to get through is this counselor’s meeting before the party tonight at Fireworks Beach, and you’ll damn yourself to Tartarus if you can’t even get that right. You’re a Dionysus kid, so partying is in your blood. Party planning is your favorite hobby, and to be real, you deserve a drink after today.
Speaking of your father, he’s jabbering on about something you find yourself not particularly interested in, but well…someone’s gotta listen. Charles is dozing off at the table, and Lee jabs him in the side. You see Silena braiding Clarisse’s hair out of the corner of your periphery. And of course, out of all of them, there’s Luke who’s been trying to steal your attention for the past 30 minutes. Black ink smears across the page as you find yourself having every thought that ends supplemented with the memory of how Luke looked at you as he climbed out of your window this morning.
Could he actually want more?
The all-star camper, Luke Castellan— camp’s best soldier who’s envied by many and admired by all…wants to wake up next to you. You, the camp director’s daughter who keeps everyone in line and is seen more as authority instead of a person with feelings. You’re not always feared, but in a camp for demigod kids who’d rather hone their powers instead of lose special privileges for skipping class, you’re not exactly their favorite either. Once, someone said they’d rather face Mr. D instead of you.
“That doesn’t make sense, we’re supposed to send in the next progress report to Olympus before the last day of the month. That’s Wednesday, D. So it should be by the Sunday before,” you butt in after a statement your dad makes about scheduling.
All eyes are on you now— it’s the first time you’ve spoken up during tonight’s meeting which was out of character in itself, but your father catches you off guard when the sound of his booming laughter spreads across the room like dynamite tearing through a battlefield.
“Says who? We’ve got enough time,” The god remarks, a strange sheen in his eyes that reflects into yours. He’s on your ass a bit more today, pointing out your flaws from the day and making it his mission to get on your nerves. Few mortals would undermine a god, and though you do it daily to spite him for your existence, your confidence is lower today than it usually is—the reason being a boy with amber eyes boring into your soul from across the table. Everything else pales in comparison now, almost fading into the background, and even here in the hot seat you can’t help but think about if Luke could ever fall for someone like you.
You’re venturing into dangerous territory, you tell yourself, you’ve been hurt before.
It hurts less somehow when you’re cautious. To prepare oneself to be hurt is a defense mechanism ingrained in you—your mom raised you to always be ready for anything. Your self-identity has always been skewed by others’ perceptions. Mirroring the memory of your late mother’s ideals, exemplifying your actions through your immortal father’s personality, you find that fighting your bloodline is one of the most difficult things to come to terms with. A thought passes in your brain that you’ve taken after the worst of them—your mother’s ambition and your father’s unpredictability.
And who would want to love someone so difficult?
Tough love is the only way you know how to love. Perhaps someone as good as Luke deserves better than this.
“It’ll be less to worry about that way,” you swallow, and the other counselors sit back in their seats as tension fills the air, signaling another disagreement about to start between your father and you.
“Good thing you don’t have to worry about it since it’s my job, right, kid? Just because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed today doesn’t mean you can change things to better fit your schedule instead of the rest of ours.”
Mr. D scowls, and then again maybe you’re too much like your father—too brash, too mouthy, and self-serving, and your eyes meet Luke’s again as your mouth pulls into a bitter smile.
“It’s the first and last time it’ll ever happen. Gods know I don’t get sick days around here picking up after you,” you spit out harshly, words coming out like acid.
“Just saying kid. Haven’t seen you this careless in years— Maybe check yourself before telling us what to do, yeah?”
Your father’s words have a double meaning as he stares into your soul, glancing between you and Luke, who is none the wiser, still focused on you. Annabeth is holding his hand under the table as you watch his jaw flex. He can see right through the shoddy performance you put on of having it all together.
Does everyone know?
Your lips pucker as you roll your neck from locking, and a humorless laugh slips from you. Everyone else’s eyes are on Luke, who looks like he’s about to jump across the table and wring a god’s neck.
Fuck.
“Whatever. I’m not doing this today,” you grumble, feeling overwhelmed. The chair screeches against the wood of the floor as you push yourself up, fists stained with ink and clenched in teenage angst as you walk to the door to make a quick escape.
Your father crosses his arms smugly at the success of getting under your skin, and the last words you hear as you leave are, “You never want to hear the truth, kid. Must you always be so…. you?”
Your steps falter for a moment, feeling heavier knowing he’s right so you let go of the door to let it slam it behind you. There’s a commotion inside after you leave but you couldn’t be bothered to give a damn. It’s time to party and you’re sure as hell getting drunk, high, or both tonight.
—
It takes about two cups of wine for the inebriation to start kicking into Luke’s system. He’d never been much of a drinker, but with the way you’re throwing your head back at Lee’s jokes as he plays the guitar, he thinks he should drink a bit more to forget the fear in your eyes this morning and how Lee keeps touching your waist.
He’s been suspended from counselor duties for the rest of the month for mouthing off at Mr. D in your defense, and even if Annabeth tells him he’s lucky to have not met a worse fate, the way things played out today makes him feel like the most unlucky guy at camp. Fuck the gods, or at least…fuck your dads (that doesn’t sound right, but he’s too busy watching the moonlight glint against your skin that whatever his ex is whispering next to him goes in one ear and out the other).
“Lukey?” Skye mumbles against his neck, “I miss you…you’re always busy doing who knows what!”
Well… she has a name, Luke thinks, taking a big gulp of whatever’s left in his cup as his eyes follow you across the beach. You’re dancing around the bonfire spinning a tipsy Clarisse who laughs without a care in the world. He thinks you’re the best of your parents—determined to achieve your goals, selfless when it comes to others’ needs, and passionate about what you want. Mr. D will never get to see this side of you—the one you show your friends and this place you all call home. He’ll never be deserving of the work you put into Camp Half-Blood (and to some extent, Luke knows he doesn’t deserve you either).
A dejected sigh brushes warm air against his shoulder.
“You know, Castellan. I wish I met you first,” the blond daughter of Athena slurs with tears forming in her eyes.
“What are you talking about?”
“The two of you have always… it’s always been you and her. Even if you both don’t want to admit it. It’s not fair,” she hiccups. Luke pulls the cup out of his ex-lover’s hand and she shakes her head.
“Skye, you’re drunk. I’ll take you back to 6.”
“You really don’t see it do you?” Her hands grapple onto Luke’s shirt like she’s pulling him down and pleading for him to understand.
“That girl is in love with you. The both of you are meant for each other—and you’re both spending too much time trying to fight fate. The rest of us aren’t as lucky, but we sure as hell aren’t stupid.”
There’s a moment of clarity that hits as he looks into Skye’s eyes, and he scratches the back of his neck.
“You don’t mean that.”
“I meant what I said when we broke up a few years ago. You’re both always looking for each other, even if you don’t know it. Just meet in the middle already, for gods’ sake…I’ll be okay,” she sighs, sitting up on the log they were resting on.
“Your girlfriend is sure as hell to give me a hangover worth her title of being Dionysus’ kid in the morning anyways,” she mutters, kissing Luke on his cheek as a farewell. But out of all of the things to catch your attention that night, Luke’s blush glows in the light of the fire, and he watches you frown and stomp off toward the forest.
For being the son of the god of luck, his dad really won’t give him a break.
It didn’t help that Skye suddenly started projectile vomiting seconds after you left (off of her only cup of wine; wonder how that happened).
—
Luke fights through his growing intoxication on the walk back towards the cabins, but boy are you difficult when you’re angry—you’ve always had a profound effect on his being, even more so with your powers. He makes a wrong turn somewhere through the woods, completely missing the cabins, which he doesn’t realize until he stumbles across the path leading to the Big House. When his eyes focus, he spots Mr. D sipping on a glass as he leans on the railing of the front porch. Be calm and don’t act drunk, Luke tells himself, but all of his concentration goes into not swaying in front of the god of wine that he can’t stop the words from coming out of his mouth.
“Good evening, um…sir.”
“Kid, it’s 3 in the morning. What the hell are you doing here? Gods know it’s not my window you’re trying to climb up. You’re a bit of a ways off.”
Now what the fuck was he supposed to say to that?
Luke freezes in his spot (in reality he bumps into the first wooden step and sticks a hand out to steady himself against the railing).
“Are you drunk?”
Mr. D looks at him knowingly like it’s almost funny to him, eyebrows furrowed and head quirked like he can sniff it off of him. He probably can, now that Luke thinks really hard about it.
“I’m not gonna answer that because I think you know the answer already,” the son of Hermes words carefully, but nothing smart can come of this. It’s like playing chess with checkers, and Dionysus of all gods would know—no breathalyzer needed.
There’s a beat of silence, before Mr. D says, “I’m gonna give you another chance to–”
“Yes, I’m drunk, but it’s not trouble’s fault—it’s mine!” he blabbers, walking closer to your father.
“She’s mad at me for defending her from you earlier besides the fact I act stupid around her and I only had a few cups, I swear, but she’s…your daughter is…extraordinary.”
“What?”
“Your daughter makes me feel drunk, sir. Even without the wine. I don’t know what to do with myself, just please don’t get mad at her. She has a lot more to lose…” He feels pathetic in all sense of the word, rubbing at his eyes until Mr. D snaps his fingers and the alcohol blanket lifts from his senses. Like a bucket of cold water splashed onto his spine, Luke is suddenly very awake, and all too embarrassed for the waterfall of words he’s told your father.
“Oh.”
“I didn’t know she knew how to do that yet. She’s learning quickly.” Mr. D looks out into the distance, the dim light of the cabins acting like a beacon of light in the middle of the campgrounds.
Luke wrings his hands, picking at his thumbs and he’s sure he’s about to get kicked out of camp for his behavior, much less the fact that he’s been fraternizing with the director’s daughter.
“Sometimes I think she knows too much.” He licks his lips, awkwardly standing next to the god and wondering if the dark liquid in his cup is wine.
“Do you think I don’t know that, Luke? Do you really think I don’t know about the parties? I let her have her fun too you know— I'm the one that keeps Chiron asleep. She doesn’t ask for much. I know I give her a hard time. I’m just….”
There are a few things about Mr. D’s statement that surprise Luke: the fact that he actually knows his name, how he safeguards his daughter’s interests, and the possibility of a god actually knowing how to be a good parent.
It still doesn’t take away from the countless times he’s seen you put yourself down because of your father, the inadequacy you feel from the responsibilities you take on, and how you’d do anything for simple applause. Tough love is still love with a heavy hand. And it leaves bruises, whether he meant it or not.
“Is that why you’ve never sent her on an actual quest? We all know picking up the twins doesn’t count in the grand scheme of things.”
“For what? To achieve glory? Recognition? I never understood why we Olympians do that. Send children off to their deaths to deserve a moment of their godrent’s time, or a gift to shut them up. I don’t need her to be a hero, she doesn’t have anything she needs to prove to me. I need her to be my daughter, and preferably alive. That’s enough for me.”
Luke takes a step back in disbelief. There’s something in his being that yearns to be loved like that, without having to prove it or needing to deserve it. It hurts almost, the way he wants to be loved like your family loves you. Your father, an Olympian, standing in front of him telling him that your existence is enough to be worthy of his presence. In the silence that follows, Luke wonders if he’ll ever have that.
“You should tell her that more often, sir.”
“Listen. She’s a good kid, I just give her a hard time because it’s hard to get attached to you mortals. Your lives are so short compared to the infinite timeline I live. I can do everything in my power to try to keep her safe, but I can’t stop her from leaving. So don’t blame me if I act like an asshole if it’ll keep her here for a bit longer. I’ll take all the time I can get.”
“Then how do I tell her I love her with without either of us running away?”
Mr. D laughs loudly now, his wrinkles crinkling as liquid sloshes out of his cup. It turns out to be grape juice you left out for him before the party.
“Mortals always busy themselves with trivial things, like pride and sorrow. Pandora’s box left you humans with nothing but hope. I say you swallow the negative and just say it how it is. You’ll have a lot more time being happier together that way. I already lost my bet against some of the counselors anyway.”
“What bet?”
Your dad swats at Luke like he’s a dog to kick, and tosses his glass over his shoulder where it disappears in the night air.
“Get off my porch Castellan, and just know if you hurt her…”
“I’d die before that happens, sir.”
“That would hurt her most of all. Think about what that means. For gods’ sake she’s left her light on for you, so go on before I set the harpies on you. And don’t call me sir, it freaks me out. You’re still not special to me.” Mr. D stalks back inside the Big House, and Luke takes that as his cue to leave. The cold night air pushes him back towards the cabins, the light in your window luring him in like a ship lost at sea.
—
“I know you’re still awake, trouble.”
You hear him move closer to the bed as you keep your eyes shut, evening out your breaths, but you’re never able to hide anything from Luke anymore.
“I thought I closed that window,” you mumble, turning your face more towards your pillow.
“You didn’t.”
Of course, you didn’t. You were hoping he’d chase after you this time around, even if you made him drunk in more ways than one.
“Skye keep you busy?” you say nonchalantly, and you hear Luke laugh as he tugs your duvet off of you.
“Your dad did, actually,” he says grinning, watching your eyes pop open in confusion as you turn and face him, propping yourself up on your knees.
“What the fuck?”
“You could’ve gotten me kicked out y’know? Stumbled onto his porch telling him about how drunk you make me feel even without a drop of alcohol and how I don’t know what the fuck to do with myself when I’m around you.”
“You shouldn’t be so brave to fight gods like that for me. Even if it’s my dad, Castellan,” you whisper, and he kneels next to your bed so he can look at you in the eyes from an equal standpoint. Because that’s what the two of you are— equal, singular, one and the same. And he’s never made you feel less than, even if your brain tries to convince you of it.
“Stop that,” he scoffs, shaking his head as he grabs your hands, “stop calling me my last name like it detaches you from how you feel about me. I want you to stop pretending when it's just you and me,” he pleads, whispering your name so softly that the sound of it brushes against your lips.
There’s something more intimate in the way he looks at you now compared to when you were naked and nestled against him this past morning. The act of knowing that it’s you and him, no matter how hard you try to fight it.
His knuckle brushes against your jaw, pushing your eyes to look back into his, and you can’t deny him any longer.
“Hey. I love you, and I know you feel the same; I'm tired of you acting like you're not and I’m going crazy he—”
His words are halted by your lips surging forward to meet him in the middle. The culmination of years of friendship has brought you to this special moment frozen in time, and sure, demigods die young but this must be what he’ll see in Elysium. If there’s a single memory he can bring with him to his next life, he hopes it’s this one—the taste of you and how it feels to be loved like this, without question or reason. You pull away with a sweet smile and he feels drunk again.
“You’re my best friend, angelface,” you mumble.
Okay, now that sobered him up faster than it should have.
Luke stiffens, his hands falling to your thighs as he starts to ramble, “If you’re actually friendzoning me right now I might just roll out of your window and feed myself to a harpy.”
The laugh that comes out of you booms across the room as you wrap your arms around him with a radiant smile. You always have so much to say, but right now only three words come to mind. Five vowels, three consonants, and the gravity of it pushes out of your mouth like there’s no better truth to tell.
“I love you. I think I’ve been in love with you even before I liked you and I’m sorry I’ve been too scared to say it. I’m not used to…”
Luke sighs in relief, as he presses his scarred cheek against your shoulder.
“You think I’m not scared of us either, trouble? I worship the ground you walk on, and everyone can see that.”
“Well I’m not a god, Luke,” you say tugging him up by his mop of curls as your legs wrap around him.
“Sometimes when I’m with you, I think you’re the closest thing to it,” he whispers, pulling your chin down for another kiss until you both get your fill. He thinks he can kiss you forever until the end of your short lives, until it’s senseless and maddening, like falling into a drunken stupor. Loving you is an experience he’ll never be able to rid himself of, heart stained with the best of you until both your fingertips are red and raw with the feeling.
You pull him back into your bed as your giggles fill the early morning air. He’s quickly becoming what you love most about waking up in the morning.
—
Chris Rodriguez wakes up to the sound of the morning birds and chattering children in the busy cabin 11. As he rubs at his eyes, ready to take on the day as an interim cabin counselor for the rest of the month because of Luke’s suspension, sunlight falls onto the one empty bunk in the corner of the room (Fact: There is never an empty bed in the Hermes cabin. Also a fact: he and Chiron will be able to cash in against the other counselors as fast as his feet can take him to the Big House).
—
“To love someone is firstly to confess; I’m prepared to be devastated by you.” Billy Ray Belcourt
ask to be added to luke/general taglists!
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#luke castellan x reader#luke castellan x dionysus!reader#pjo x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#luke castellan angst#made by ma1dita ♥︎#🪽#percy series#thank you for reading my love ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚
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Eddie came out to Steve and Robin shortly after he got out of hospital. Robin came out to him first, and she made it clear Steve was accepting of her.
Eddie still worried though, because he knew guys could be just fine with lesbians but still get on the defensive when it came to gay guys existing around them He didn't want to believe that of Steve, not after everything they'd been through together, but he couldn't be sure all the same.
When he did finally manage to get the words out, he tried to sound casual, like it was no big deal, but of course he failed. In a lull in the conversation, Steve still mid-laugh from the last thing Robin said, Eddie just blurted it out. "I'm gay."
Just that. Those two words. Robin sat upright and yelled at him, something along the lines of "Why didn't you tell me before?" but Eddie wass too busy looking at Steve's reaction to answer her.
He watched as Steve's face fell, as the sparkle in his eyes dulled and his brows pulled together. Eddie felt his heart break a little, braced himself for rejection.
"Relax, man," he added, heart racing, saying anything he could think of to make Steve act normal about this. "Don't get your panties in a twist, Harrington. Just because I like guys doesn't mean I'm gonna turn around and hit on you, no offense but you're not my type."
It was a fucking lie, of course. At least partially. Because Steve wasn't Eddie's usual type, but that had stopped mattering the moment Eddie watched him bite that bat in half and it mattered even less with every subsequent interaction they had. The truth was, Eddie had it bad for Steve.
Steve took a moment, expression slowly filtering from whatever his initial reaction had been to something more supportive.
"Gee, thanks," he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Good to know." Eddie sighed with relief. Steve reached out and rested a hand on Eddie's shoulder and Eddie did his best not to lean into the touch.
And they don't mention it again.
---
Steve had been trying to work up the courage to ask Eddie out for months. Every time Eddie bumped shoulders with him while they walked, every time he heard the sound of Eddie's guitar through an open window before he knocked on the door, every time they were alone together and Eddie was gesturing wildly talking about something Steve knew nothing about, Steve wanted to kiss him.
It was almost background noise after a while, but when Robin made it clear Eddie knew about her, that he was cool with it, that he'd been supportive, the feeling had exploded into something more.
Steve was embarrassed to say he was probaby just one of Eddie's blinding grins in his direction away from finding a notebook for the express purpose of scribbling the words Steve Munson, SH❤️EM all over the margins.
Maybe he could ask Eddie out, and maybe he wouldn't cut Steve off immediately, but there was a big difference between a girl coming out to you and some guy hitting on you directly, so Steve was waiting for the right time, when he could beat a hasty retreat and maintain some dignity if it went bad.
And then Eddie came out.
Steve felt himself freeze, hope fizzing in his chest as he tried his best not to look too giddy with excitement at the idea. He'd barely processed the words when Eddie said the rest.
No offense, but you're not my type
The hope which had previously started to blossom shrivelled up and died, while Steve stumbled through what he hoped was a supportive response. He wanted to make it clear that Eddie had nothing to fear from him, even while his heart broke.
Eddie liked guys.
Eddie just didn't like him.
Steve had been rejected before, but it had never stung like this.
(part 2)
#might write a follow up to this soon but ive been thinking about it all day and needed to share#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#my fic#steddie fic#ficlets and headcanons
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Wish I never came
Captain john price x f!reader
Summary: being johns wife has been full of security and safety and you never thought he’d be the one to taint that.
Warnings: angst(why doesn’t anyone write about how scary price can be when hes angry peepaw is cra), hurt/comfort, 141 task force loves you, price is fucking scary.
Part 2 out now!
—-------------------
Every first friday of the month you bring the boys and your husband a homemade meal to base. It’s been tradition for almost two years now since the first time you did it on a whim, John begged you for a good roast so you surprised him with some and since there was so much you’d brought the rest for his task.
Today you've perfected the dish gaz asked for, they decided rotations on requests now because it became unfair when soap requested meals only he liked 4 months in a row.
You packed all 4 meals in airtight thermal containers and put them in the car before heading towards base about 2 hours away. The military police men greeted you by first name when you arrived and buzzed you in.
“I've never been happier to see someone in my life.” soap rushes you and traps you in a hug while gaz takes the two bags from your hands.
“Good afternoon, wheres simon and john?” you greet both of them with smiles something that was relieving to see in a place like this. The common area was empty during this time of day so it was clear they weren't here.
Before they could answer simon came in, eyes looking more exhausted than usual. He gives a weak attempt at an ‘hello love’ a common and yet sweet name they’d picked up for you.
“I honestly wouldn't go into his office right now hes a little um on edge i’d say.” he grabs his thermal bowl from the bag its always the black one, this way they dont fight over which bowl has more.
“Nonsense simon he’s my husband, im just going to bring him this and be on my way.” simon shook his head turning a satisfied groan at the taste of real food in his mouth to a disapproving one at your persistence.
“love maybe listen he’s under a lot of pressure right now, its really not the time.” gaz interrupts simons beginning of a sentence.
Without another word you just grab his bowl and a fork setting off torwars his office which at this point you could get to blind.
“Are we just going to let her do that.” gaz looks to the two men.
“We warned and she’s right thats her husband i mean worst he’ll do is ignore her, loves her too much to hurt her.” ghost grumbles.
—
The air is tense on your way down the hall but you approach his door regardless as the familiar scent of a lit cigar fills your senses. You give two knocks before walking in.
“Hey just brought you some lunch.” you say quietly as you walk in observing the splay of files on the floor and desk.
He grunts and doesn't even spare you a look which yeah it stings but it was expected.
“Okay then can I leave it right here?” you point at a spot on a coffee table thats somewhat clear.
“Do whatever you want with it, mm not hungry.” he says lowly while taking another drag from his cigar letting the ash fall freely.
“So should i just leave it in the kitchen, i can just-.” you didn't know why you were rambling or nervous even john had only ever made you feel safe.
“I fuckin said do what you please with it, I’m busy.” the tone made you shiver, and yes maybe you should've just left it and talked to him later but this wasn't a behavior from him you've ever experienced.
“John I-”
“Jesus fucking christ take the food, leave the food I dont fucking care but get the fuck out of here as soon as you can thankyou!” His voice makes you flinch as he throws a stack of papers on the floor with an unneeded force, he yelled at you for the first time ever and you couldn't even process it. Was time bending or had the air become thin, you didn't know but you took a few weary steps back towards the door and left the food by the entrance on the floor finally closing it, once you were back in the hallway air found it’s way to your lungs as you took a deep breath.
“Hey its okay come on.” gaz was there gently caressing your arm along with the two others catching up behind him in the distance.
They never thought hed talk to you like that but right when they heard that deep threatening drawl boom from the common area gaz was the first one up and out. He was always overly protective of you.
You weren't crying, no but you wanted to. You just closed your eyes for what felt like ages and whispered an ‘I’m okay’ and left without another word.
Once you reached the comfort of your own car your heart caught up with the speed of your brain and tears poured, the last time you’d cried like this had been in childhood. Without another second you sped around the lot and out of the exiting gates wishing you'd never entered them in the first place.
You got a call not so long into your way home, maybe five minutes if you estimated correctly and you almost gagged at the picture of you and john that popped up as he rang you.
The boys were the ones to call next but you just dazed out on the long road ahead, disassociated from the outside world around you. You stopped at a cafe you particularly enjoyed in a town near your home needing to clear your thoughts.
Price had waited and even started counting seconds to see if you'd pop up on the ring camera he installed to keep an eye on you, it brought him comfort especially when you'd make cute gestures at it or talk to him through it as you brought groceries inside. But now you should've been home an hour ago at most and still no sign of you.
He had not comprehended how loud he could get and he really only snapped out of it when soap appeared in his office with a very disapproving look. Then he finally noticed the look of fear in your eyes or how the sweet smile you always wore was a frown and then his gaze made it to the container he’d grown so familiar with by the door.
“FUCK!” he could cry grown man tears, he spoke to you how he sometimes speaks to his soldiers and the strings in his heart felt like they were on the verge of combusting.
“You fucked up captain.” soap added to the fuel before leaving his office.
—----------------
Anyone feel that chest pain.
Re-blogs and feedback are appreciated 🫶
#captain price#john price#task 141#captain price x female reader#barry sloane#john price x female reader#angst#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish
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some facts about my father, a perfectly ordinary human being:
got tenure in two years by getting two 2.5-million dollar grants from the government and he's now held that job for the longest time any faculty at his university has ever been tenured. literally almost longer than his entire school has existed.
he's won a fullbright...thrice.
speaks five languages (fluently: english, hebrew, russian; functionally: polish, dutch) and can get around in three others (german, japanese, and "pidgin arabic" whatever the fuck that means)
he was once locked inside the great pyramid at giza. on purpose.
one time i went to austin when he was out of town and when we got back to his house the only food in his fridge was 1) bulk family size cocktail shrimp from costco with all the shrimp eaten out of it and only the marinade left, 2) three boxes worth of frozen yoghurt bars, 3) two bags of frozen mini-wontons that expired two years earlier
has only one demand for his funeral and it's that while his casket is being lowered into the ground i make sure they play "whatever it is, i'm against it!" from the marx brothers film horse feathers
broke into (and out of) martial law poland in the early 80s and brought four hams in his back seat so he could spent six months living with his girlfriend, including a short period of time where he tried to drive from białystok to kraków in the middle of a blizzard, got lost, had no phone, no map, ran into the police, accidentally gave them his fake texas passport and almost got deported, bribed them with a ham, and then somehow ended up at his girlfriend's brother's apartment by complete happenstance and got blind drunk for a week
made friends with his assigned kgb agent in the 70s in russia
his car broke down in the middle of the sinai desert in the 70s and was saved from dying by a roaming passing band of bedouin car mechanics who took his entire car apart and put it back together and drove off without saying anything except "it works."
convinced me and one of my childhood best friends that he had found a way to time travel an hour into the future through the careful use of daylight savings, a radio station, a car clock, and the fact that he has never been on time for anything in his entire life
when he got his house renovated he decided that two attics and two cleverly hidden crawl spaces wasn't enough, so he added two more attics and another cleverly hidden crawl space, and i wish good luck to whatever poor schmuck (my cousin) has to sell his house someday.
broke his cherry-wood dining table under piles of papers...twice.
when in grad school, pretended to be a visiting russian statistics professor named "professor blowjob" (in russian) and somehow got away with this in order to teach a lecture on how s of x = f of n (sex is fun)
conned me into the belief that i had a magical color-changing guinea pig and kept this act up for literally a decade before admitting the truth
became a fellow on one of the yellow river restoration projects by making friends with an old man doing tai chi with a sword in a park in beijing. turned out that old man with a sword in a park in beijing was the head of the national environmental protection office at the time.
#ill add more as i think of them.#and post links to the full stories once i get my dad to tell me them#so i can write them down#his versions are funnier than mine#this is a stable writing tag
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The Prince pt.2
(Alastor x prince of hell! Reader)
Warnings: couple fight, kinda depression but nothing major, ehhh I think thats it.
Also Alastor might be a bit OOC but like who cares let me be delusional🫡
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It has been two months now since you and your dad visited your sisters hotel and you met Alastor.
Since then life has been amazing. You and Alastor continued to meet up in coffee shops and bars.
Of course you didn't tell your father since he would freak out.
However is has happened don more than one occasion that you spent the night in Alastors room at the hotel telling your father that you were just visiting Charlie.
Nothing happened of course since Alastor was asexual, and it took quite some time to get him comfortable with physical touch in general.
After he got used to it though it turned out he loved it. Only with you, but he loved it.
One of your favorite activities together is, in fact, cuddling.
Which you were doing right now as well you sitting in his lap in one of his arm chairs both of you reading books.
Alastor stopped reading for a second, and looked at you.
Since the meeting at the hotel a lot has happened. A lot that surprised even him. He has no idea he could get into e relationship let alone with someone as amazing as you.
Around the beginning of the second month into your relationship you got into a fight.
You wanted him to drop the act and open up to you because if he doesn't this relationship will never work.
And obviously he didn't want to. He has spent years building up his very carefully crafted facade. And who knew if you would still love him.
After that argument you didn't see each other for a week. Which was hell for alastor. Yes, he lived there but being away from you showed him what it was like for other people.
The pain in his heart was something he has never felt before, perhaps when his mother died but that was so long ago he could barely remember.
He woke up with that blinding pain in his chest and he thought is was just a temporary thing, so he went along his day.
Only to notice that the pain did not lessen or go away. It was there constantly and got worst whenever someone mentioned you.
After 3 days spent like this he could take it no more he went to you fathers house and requested to see you.
He knew that Lucifer didn't know you guys were together but he didn't care at this point he needed to see you and frankly he refused to do it over a little buzzing box.
Your father was of course as confused as one can be. What the fuck was the radio demon doing here wanting to talk to you.
They were about to get into another fight when you turned up.
Alastor froze when he saw you.
You were, even nicely speaking, a mess. Your hair was not as well kept the sleepless nights could be seen in your eyes, and you were wearing your pjs, which was one of Alastors shirts, from the few he owned.
Alastors didn't even spare another glance at your father he pushed him out of the way took your hand and led you to your room where you guys talked things out.
He didn't open up fully, but he stopped grinning. Which was already a huge step for him.
He promised, though, to open up to you more and more he just needed time.
And you were ok with that.
After he finished his sentence you leaped into his arm and kissed him which he eagerly returned. Missing the feeling of your lips on his.
"Alastor?"
He was staring at you. For a long time now and you were getting worried.
"Are you ok?" You asked while cupping his cheek.
He took the hand that was on his cheek and kissed your palm that put that hand on his chest where his heart would be if he had one.
"Oh, I'm quite alright dear, just thinking." He answered than leaned in for a kiss.
Your lips met and this kiss was not quite like the others.
Alastor but all the feelings he couldn't say into that one kiss stealing your breath. You felt the things he was to closed off to share and you understood why it would take him time.
After you parted you gave him another quick kiss which made him chuckle.
"WHERE IS THAT RADIO DEMON SON OF A BITCH"
Oh, yeah when Alastor visited you, Lucifer found out about you two, and since than...well lets just say Alastor enjoys tempting him with it to no end.
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YOU GUYS ASKED FOR A PART TWO, AND I DELIVERED😎
No cuz in all seriousness my hazbin fics have gotten so much love and I just wanna thank you guys so much😭🧡🧡
I hope you enjoyed your reading Ladies, gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night.🦖🧡
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One Slow Blink Part 1
Description: As a nurse, you want to help people, as many as you can. But, with the insane things that have been going on in Hawkins, and the crazed look in Dustin's eyes when he stumbles into the ER covered in blood with an impossible tale to tell, it makes you wonder; how much are you prepared to give?
Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, *Here there be monsters! Honestly, there's straight up monster fucking in this so if you're not into that do not read*, AFAB sub nurse reader x dom monster Eddie, kinda Alpha/Omega without them knowing it, injury descriptions, S4 does happen and Eddie lives but he be a monster, hand job, fem oral receiving, male oral receiving, consensual predator/prey dynamic, fingering, very rough sex, biting/marking, unprotected p in v, knotting.
A/N: Part 1 of 2, only due to Tumblr restrictions. Adding the second part in a minute. This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)
22k words in total for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)
Masterlist Part 2
Tires screech off of the road and onto a dirt path as Nancy turns erratically in her station wagon, the whole car shuddering in protest. Her hands are shaking on the wheel; so much so that you place a placating hand on her knee to try to calm her down.
You didn't know Nancy, not really. Hell, you only knew Dustin because he came into the hospital for a nasty cut on his leg when he fell off his bike three months ago. Then all of a sudden he shows up in the emergency room covered in blood, grime matted into his curly locks and tear streaks cutting through the dirt on his face.
He swore until he was blue in the face that it wasn't his, that he needed a doctor, anyone that could help. You tried and failed to convince him to call an ambulance but he insisted that no one else in the hospital would understand.
There was something about the desperate look in his eyes. It was frightening; those innocent eyes were hard, harder than they had any right to be. Dustin had seen something no child should have had to witness. With Max being admitted blind and unconscious with both arms and legs broken, and all the talk about strange occurrences around town, not to mention the freak earthquakes, it wasn't difficult to believe. But there was something he was not telling you, you were sure of it. Who comes to the ER without a patient and begs a nurse to come with them?
A feeling had settled in the pit of your stomach. The same thing had happened when the mall caught on fire. A feeling that things weren't what they at first glance appeared. Something strange and unnatural was going in, you were sure of it.
Maybe that's why you stole a trauma kit out of an ambulance. Maybe that's why you got in the car, pushed into the front seat by Dustin and Nancy. Maybe that's why you're being bundled out of said car and running through the woods, bracken cutting your ankles through your scrubs and leaves whipping at your face.
A light in the distance cuts through the dark, glowing and growing as you quickly approach. A small cabin, you see, ramshackle and falling apart. Stepping towards it, you're about to go in when a bellowing roar echoes throughout the woods and into your chest, vibrating your very lungs and stealing your breath away. The kind of roar that makes your survival instincts run wild, telling you to flee. You would listen to it, if your gut wasn't telling you that you were right where you were supposed to be.
A minute later, Steve is slamming the front door open, looking dishevelled. There's crimson smeared on his cheek; two long cuts run from temple to jaw dripping blood.
“Is he why-”
“Henderson, what the hell dude! You can't just bring anyone here!”
“I know Steve! She can help, she's a doctor-”
“Nurse, actually,” you interrupt rather sheepishly.
Steve rubs his hand through his mussed up hair and takes a pace backwards.
“Great, that's just great. When I told you to get someone-”
Dustin's response is high pitched and hard, tuning through the clearing.
“I did. I got someone! It's not like I could freaking advertise!”
“Look, you said you need help. What can I do?”
Steve and Dustin exchange dark glances.
“Alright, you better come with me.”
He heads back inside and you follow quietly wondering what the hell you've gotten yourself into.
The cabin is quaint, and clearly used to be a well loved home a while ago. Now however, there's a gaping hole in the ceiling and dust trailed across the living area. Robin is sitting on an old sofa, you remember her being in band at school. She looks terrible, cracking her knuckles and mumbling to herself incoherently.
“He's through here.”
You trail Steve as he leads to a door that's slightly ajar. Pushing it open with one finger he leans on the doorframe and gestures with the other hand at the most impossible thing you've ever seen in your life.
“What… is that?”
“That is Eddie.”
There's a figure strapped to a double bed with strips of fabric bound to its wrists and ankles. Torn clothing is clinging to parts of it, and what skin you can see is a mass of blood and hair. No, not hair. Fur. Its spine seems wrong, curving more than a humans, and its fingers are thick and adorned with semicircular black claws. The face is not recognizable anymore. You see a huge maw, lips curled in anger with razor sharp teeth on display and spit gathering down its matted chin. That's been bound too; a leather belt wrapped tight around it, you assume to stop it biting. It writhes around on the bed, snarling and growling deep in its throat as various wounds bleed out in front of you. One of its arms, if you could call it that, is bent at an odd angle and seems to be limp compared to the rest of it.
Standing there open-mouthed, you gawp at the thing.
“You said this is- this is Eddie??”
“Listen, I know it's insane-”
You step into the room, pulled by an invisible thread. It turns its head and looks straight into your eyes. Wide, warm eyes, full of pain, pleading with you. They're a soft brown, burnt umber, with a whisper of honey and summer days. Familiar eyes. Human eyes.
“Its- his arm is broken I think, and these wounds… isn't he wanted for-”
“He didn't do it. He could never. Just- just do what you can. Please. He- he's a hero.”
Standing by the edge of the bed, you reach out with shaking fingers to touch him lightly on the shoulder. He whips his head around, jaw inches from your trembling hand. His chest is heaving, arm struggling against its bindings.
“Eddie.”
You kneel to his eye level and stroke softly at the tatters of his t-shirt. He looks panicked, wide eyes rolling like a cornered animal as he continues to struggle.
“Eddie, I'm here to help you.”
Nothing but low growls and broken whines come from his tightly bound maw. The thrashing intensifies; he nearly lifts the bed up with sheer force. Steve takes a step back, but not you.
You climb up on the bed and straddle his floundering form. Blood smears your scrubs as you grasp his head firmly and turn it to face you.
“Eddie Munson, you listen to me right now! Stop squirming and listen!”
The silence is deafening, ringing in your ears. He stops his incessant battle against his confines and looks at you, the look of a frightened boy.
Voice softening, you stroke at the newly grown fur on his cheek. It's soft and warm.
“Eddie, do you remember me? We used to have English class together two years ago, with Mrs O’Donnell? You sat next to me. Remember?”
A flash of recognition dawns behind those soft brown eyes.
“You were late nearly everyday. You used to draw amazing things in your notebook, all sorts of creatures and symbols and I thought it was incredible. You- any time you caught me looking at you, you winked. You know I nearly failed that class because I was too busy staring at you, seeing what you'd do next?”
His breathing starts to slow down, his heaving chest moving up and down almost rhythmically now.
“You are Eddie Munson. You're in there, I can tell. I know you're scared, I get it, but I need to try and treat you. OK?”
He breathes deep, and something akin to a nod happens which seems to hurt him judging by the way his face tightens.
“Right. Stay still. I need to try and set your arm. I've got some painkillers in the trauma bag, so I'll need to inject you. Can you- can you blink once for yes, twice for no?”
He closes his eyes slowly, tight shut, and then opens them again.
“That's it, that's good. I'll be back.”
Clambering off his huge form, you turn to Steve who is already clutching the bag in his hands.
“That was- how did you do that?”
Filtering through the bag to find what you need, you pull out a syringe and unpack it, and find the drugs you're looking for and start setting up the needle.
“Listen, if I think about this too much I'm gonna panic, so shut up. I've never done this before.”
A strange calmness has descended upon you. Taking the needle you move back to Eddie's side and find a vein in his muscular arm.
“Eddie, I'm gonna inject you with some painkillers to take the edge off, OK?”
One slow blink.
“Good. You'll feel a scratch, doing it now.”
Once the drugs hit his system you know they've helped as the tension seems to leave his body.
“I need to set his arm, can you try and hold him steady?”
Steve looks like he'd rather run for the hills, but to his credit he nods and approaches.
“Right, hold up by his shoulder there, keep him still.”
You untie his limp wrist and Eddie whimpers when his arm falls to the bed.
“Now, Eddie, this is gonna hurt like hell, but once it's done it'll feel alot better.”
Instead of counting down you just arrange his arm into what you think is the right place and twist in one smooth motion.
Eddie's body convulses; you can see Steve trying to push all his weight into him, knuckles white from the pressure. The howling growl that rips from Eddie is muffled by the leather strap around his muzzle, and then it cuts off.
Eddie is completely still. After a second, a snarling snore fills the room.
“I think he passed out.”
“That's probably for the best. Now I need two straight sticks or something, and the bandages from my bag. I suppose I need to splint this.”
“What do you mean you suppose?”
“Steve!”
“OK OK! Jeez, you sound just like Nancy.”
He jogs off to get what you asked for, and when you have your materials you tie his arm into a makeshift splint.
“Now, there's trauma shears in the bag. I need to cut his clothes off and treat these wounds.”
Steve fumbles through the bag as you get more bandages and gauze ready. He passes them to you and you methodically remove the scraps of grimy torn clothes, eventually leaving him in a pair of tatty looking boxer shorts.
“Are you gonna, erm, cut those-”
“I think we can leave those on,” you rush it out of your mouth, a little faster and more high pitched than you meant to.
“Now, I need warm water and a clean towel or something.”
As you work together, Steve following your directions, you clean and bandage each wound you see as best as you can. After what seems like forever, you're finally finished, collapsing onto the floor exhausted with your back flush against the wall to keep you upright.
“He's probably gonna need some antibiotics. Those bites looked pretty gnarly. Maybe a tetanus shot. Fuck, maybe a vet.”
You huff a laugh with zero amusement in it as Steve sinks to the floor next to you.
“That was awesome, how'd you know all that stuff?”
“I'm studying to be a doctor, and I read every chance I get. I'm a junior nurse. You get to see some shit in the ER. Nothing like this, but apparently I must have learned something.”
“Sure did. You wanna go and get some rest? There's a bed next door.”
“No, I'll stay here, keep an eye on him. He's gonna need food, and water though.”
“I got it.”
Steve gets up and leaves, returning with a chair and a blanket.
“Thanks Steve. Is Dustin alright?”
“He fell asleep on the couch, when he's awake we'll tell you everything.”
He goes then, and you hear the front door shut softly.
********************
You ache, your back bending, contorting in a way that makes it burn. A warm blanket is covering your shoulders though, and the pillow underneath you is firm and fuzzy. There's an odd pressure on top of your head; it's slightly comforting. Risking opening one eye, yesterday's memories begin to flow into your consciousness.
You're sitting in a chair, bent over Eddie's sick bed, and that's not a pillow. Your head is resting on a furry shoulder. Reaching a tentative hand upward you realise his huge paw of a hand is resting on your head. Fingers find coarse hair, rougher than the fuzz on his chest, and his thick fingers taper into a bone like claw, smooth and curved.
With the patience of a bomb defusal expert, you lift his hand ever so gently and place it on his stomach. There's much less fur there, you see in the daylight, mostly skin and rippling muscle. It flexes under your gaze as his paw settles on top of it, absentmindedly scratching his skin in his sleep.
Careful not to wake him, you sit up and stretch, hearing pops and clicks from your backbone. He looks peaceful, huge chest rising and falling gently. The hair on his head is still long, matted and dirty but soft looking. There's a fuzz on his cheeks, and that maw of his is no longer snarling in pain though his canines still jut out slightly. An ear peeks out from his curls, the flesh still soft and pinkish, but it curls into a rounded point with downy fur at the tip.
Your eyes rake down, over his chest with the tattoo near his heart. The fur is thinner here too, and starts growing thickly in a long rope at his belly button, towards the hem of his underwear. A small gasp escapes you when you see the tent in his boxers. His member is pressing hard against the fabric, trying to break free from its cotton prison. It's thick, and clearly enormously long, your thighs clenching at the thought of touching it.
Well that was unexpected. You tear your eyes away almost shamefully. Just look at him, he's almost monstrous. Stop thinking about his package.
The door behind you creaks open, and Dustin is standing there. His gaze sweeps over Eddie, then sees what you just saw. Eyes widening comically, he slaps a hand over his face to block his view.
You stand, shrugging off the blanket you had wrapped around you, and place it delicately over Eddie. Taking one last look at his peaceful features, you follow Dustin out.
He and Nancy tell you everything. The demogorgon, the Upside Down, Will, Eleven, Vecna. It takes a couple of hours but you're patient, only asking questions to clarify some points. It's not like you don't believe him. After last night, you think you could believe anything.
By the time he's done, Steve is back with food, dumping bags in the kitchen.
“I took Robin home, she's in shock but she'll be alright. So how's Eddie Dog?”
“Eddie Dog?” You question, brow furrowing. Dustin pipes up.
“Demogorgon, Demodogs, Eddie Dog. I did think DemoEddie but Dog seems more-”
“I get it. He seems alright, I think. I mean, he's sleeping. I'll have to check the arm, and see if he gets a fever or anything but that seems like the least of his problems.”
Nancy speaks then, looking at you gently.
“You're being really, calm, about all this. You OK?”
“Oh I'm fine. I don't know why, but I'm fine. I sort of knew, deep down, what's been happening wasn't normal. Something told me I needed to be here, and I was right.”
Steve nods, happy with your response. At least he doesn't need to worry about you freaking out right now. Nancy just purses her lips and doesn't say anything else.
“I'm gonna have to untie him, you know. He needs to drink, and eat.”
“I'll help.” Dustin stands up, but you wave him down.
“No, I'll do it. He calmed down for me yesterday. I can do it.”
You stand and walk back over to Eddie's room, pushing the door open carefully. He stirs, looking at you with one eye.
“Eddie, how you feeling?”
He snorts, trying to paw at the leather around his muzzle with his injured arm.
“I'm gonna take that off and untie you. Are you… are you gonna be nice?”
He settles in the bed, head low to his chest. You take that as the best sign you can get right now. Walking over to him slowly, he turns his head to you. His eyes are soft.
You reach your hand out and cup his face gently, working the belt off with the other as you make shushing noises at him. You're not sure if they are for his benefit or yours.
When it's off, Eddie stretches his mouth wide, giving you a flash of rows of sharp teeth, and a long, thick purplish tongue. He snaps it shut and licks his lips dryly.
“You want some water?”
He blinks slowly at you. His eyelashes are thick and long, and almost look weirdly feminine against his wolfish face.
“Oh you remember that?”
Another slow blink.
“Good. Let me get you some water.”
You stand up but Steve's already at your elbow with a glass.
“Hey Munson, still alive then?”
Eddie stares at Steve for a second, lifts his injured arm up gradually, and unfurls his middle finger. Steve laughs loudly; relief coating it.
“Seems like you're still you. Good, I can't handle Dustin on my own, he's exhausting.”
A weird huffing noise comes from Eddie, almost a laugh. You hold the water up and he sits up slightly. No idea of how to get him to drink it, you tip up his chin and trickle some water gently into his open maw. He splutters slightly but manages to swallow it.
“I'm gonna untie you now, OK?”
He blinks slowly at you again and an unexpected warmth floods you. You begin at his feet; unbinding them, rubbing his ankles where they are red and sore, and rotating his feet around to get his circulation back. When you move to his bound arm he stares at you intensely, so much so it makes you blush. You take the same amount of time inspecting it, rubbing the redness away and circling his wrist.
When you move your hand he grasps it awkwardly so you can't move away. An odd noise is coming out of his mouth, a drawn out rumble of sound. His eyes crease with the effort.
A word emerges.
“...Thank.”
It's low, animal like, almost a growl, but it's a word.
“Eddie, you can talk?”
Tears spring into the corners of your eyes, though you don't know why. His face scrunches again, another bubble of growling sound forcing its way out of his maw.
“...harrrd.”
He looks like he's about to cry. You hold his cheek, stroking at the soft fur.
“It's alright, I'm sure it'll get better. You're just not used to it. I'll talk enough for the both of us, OK?”
He blinks deliberately at you again. A moment passes where you just stare at each other. Shaking your head as if to clear it, you cross to the other side of the bed to look at his broken arm.
“This looks… this can't be right. Eddie, does it hurt?”
He blinks once.
“OK, does it hurt a lot?”
Two slow blinks.
Untying the bandage, it looks almost healed. You change it, and inspect his other wounds. They look like they're already scarring, a mass of dried blood sticks to each patch of matted fur and skin but you could swear the damage happened weeks ago. They're healed so much that you take the wrappings off and don't bother to recover them.
“They've healed. I don't know how, but look.”
Eddie looks down at the scars on his abdomen, pawing at them in disbelief, causing dried blood to crust off in crimson flakes.
“Do you think you can stand up? We need to get you clean.”
He nods softly and you move to hold his uninjured arm to help him up. Placing two elongated feet on the floor, he manages to bend his knees and rise from the mattress.
He's huge. Seeing him unfurl makes you realise just how huge. He's got to be at least seven feet tall, with a broad chest and thick, powerful legs. He turns to the door and whips you inadvertently.
“Ouch, be careful with your tail Eddie.”
He spins, turning to look over his shoulder and stares at you with wild eyes.
“Yes, tail. Look.”
His paw reaches and feels it, face twisted incredulously. He shuffles forward toward the door frame with it still in his grip approaching where Steve is standing.
“Don't play with that you'll go blind,” he jokes. Eddie pats him in the chest with what should have been a mock hit, but the force of it pushes Steve back into the wall.
“Woah, easy there, big guy.”
You angle Eddie toward the bathroom and he ducks low, shuffling sideways through the doorway.
“Hmm,” you say, thinking aloud, “no way you're standing under that shower. Tell you what, if you sit in the tub I should be able to clean you.”
He stares wide eyed, glancing down to his tattered underwear and back up to you.
“You need help, Eddie, your arms broken and you shouldn't get it wet. Don't worry, I've seen- no wait, I've not seen anything like this before, but I'm a nurse. I can help you.”
Eddie continues to stand there, a low growl beginning to vibrate out of his chest. You close and lock the bathroom door, then turn back to him with your arms folded.
“Enough of that, you don't scare me. Pants off and in the tub. Now.”
Snapping his teeth in annoyance, he hooks claws into his underwear and pulls them down. As he clambers awkwardly in you briefly see his member hanging between his legs before he cups himself and settles down, squished in the enamel bath.
“Right, stick your bad arm out to the side, that's it, let me get the water running.”
You unclip the tiny shower head and turn it on, directing the stream to the plug hole until it's warm enough. Then, you begin to clean him methodically, rinsing all the blood and grime away. His fur is soft, muscles flexing under each gentle touch of your fingertips. You rinse his head of hair under the shower head, massaging his scalp, and a noise bordering on a purr exudes from him.
You're not sure if you should use shampoo over his whole body, but since all you can find to scrub him with is some drug store 3 in 1 and your bare hands, you suppose that will have to do. You begin to lather his head, rinse it off, and start working down his torso. He squirms, getting more tense the further down you go, until he starts hissing at each brush of your fingers.
“Eddie, what's wrong?”
Voice tight and strained through his tense jaw, he manages a word.
“Hurrrt.”
“I'm sorry, I'm trying to be careful. Where does it hurt?”
Throwing his head back, it smacks into the wall so hard the room shakes.
“Eddie, I can't help if-”
He looks at you and nods downwards towards his crotch, the one place you've avoided entirely so far. You follow his gaze and he awkwardly uncups himself.
His cock is standing to attention, twitching and throbbing. The end is bulbous and as purple as his tongue, the shaft thick and long, snaking out from a base of matted fur.
Your face glows with heat, blood pumping viciously to your cheeks.
“Did- did it get, er, injured, yesterday?”
He shakes his head, wincing with the movement.
“Do you want me to leave you for a minute?”
It's practically a whisper. Eddie looks anywhere but your face. Moving his hand, he shows you that he can't hold around the shaft with his thick claws.
“OK I get you,” you say, nerves shaking your voice.
You said you'd help him. You can just help him, right?
“D-do you want me to help?”
His eyes snap to yours, wide and wet. He doesn't move or say anything further, just stares. You reach down with your hand, checking up with his face. There's no change in his beastial features. Hesitantly, you cup the swollen head with your palm. He flinches, water cascading out of the tub, but doesn't take his eyes off you.
Reaching down, you gather some lather from the grubby water and begin to move your hand up and down his bulky shaft. It feels hot to the touch, and solid as a rock underneath the soft feel of his delicate skin. The noise he makes is almost a sigh of relief, head leaning backward as his spine arches to your touch.
You're struggling to get your hand around his thickness, so you extend your other arm and wrap both hands around his impressive length, stroking firmly up and down. Eddie starts whining in his throat, a desperate noise. He's thrusting into your grip, eyes rolling back in ecstasy. You start to feel throbbing between your own legs, a pulse thumping deep inside that's difficult to ignore. Focusing on your strokes, you push the feeling to the back of your mind.
You watch him instead, his chest heaving, legs beginning to shake as his dick leaks pre cum down your hands. Adding a twist to the tip of his head with each upstroke, he whimpers and whines in his throat. Impossibly, he seems to be getting even larger. You feel a bulbous growth at the base of his cock at the same time he releases, splattering cum over your fists, his chest, the water, his legs. You've never seen so much cum in all your life. He tenses all over, stifling a broken grunt from his maw. You go to move off him but he places a paw over your hand, a silent plea to keep you in place. So, you keep holding him firmly as his breath starts to regulate again.
A few minutes later he lets you go, his cock still half hard and slightly submerged in the water. Not saying a word, you rinse him down, cleaning any remaining suds and sticky release off of him, not daring to look up at his face. Once that's done, you cough and stand up, grabbing a scratchy towel to dry him off with. As he gets out of the bath, water winding down the drain and gurgling in protest, you dry him off as best as you can, taking care to be gentle around the scabs and scars. The room smells like wet dog. Finally wrapping the towel around his waist, you step back, looking over his body to check if anything is bleeding.
A clawed hand reaches to your face, the rough furry knuckle tucking under your chin, lifting it up. For the first time since it happened, you look back into his eyes, shame tumbling in your gut.
“Thanks.”
“Don't mention it.”
He gestures widely at his torso, and you snap back to your senses.
“Clothes! I'll- I'll find you something to wear, just- just hold on. I'll be back.”
You stumble quickly out the bathroom, back slamming against the shut door and close your eyes.
What in the absolute fuck was that?
You have no answers. Surely you were just being a good friend? A really good friend. It didn't explain why you are turned on so much, your own thighs feeling wet and sticky, slick dampening your underwear.
Nancy approaches as you snap your eyes open.
“You OK? Can I help?”
“Yeah, er, we need some clothes for him. Big clothes. Real big. Is there… anything?”
“Hmm,” she says, “I think I saw some of Hopper's old things in the closet. I can go out? Grab some things?”
“That would be great, thanks.”
She nods, flashing a tight lipped smile, and grabs her keys from the side. You search the closet and find a white t-shirt and some sweats, returning to the bathroom to help him put them on. The top is a stretch; on anyone else it'd be baggy but on him it looks like a muscle shirt. After some minor adjustments to the pants, which included cutting a hole for his tail, they fit well enough.
“Listen, Eddie, I need to leave.”
He snaps his head towards you, whining.
“It's alright, I've just got a shift at the hospital. Nancy's getting some more clothes for you, and Steve's brought some food. Go. Go and eat, and I'll be back in a few hours.”
He huffs, but moves carefully to the living room anyway. You explain what's happening to Steve, making sure to tell him to change the bedsheets, and turn to the front door. As you're about to leave, you hear a low, growling word that shakes through you and makes your eyes brim with emotion. It's your name.
********************
You shower and change at the hospital, willing your shift to be over and done with. Managing to explain away your disappearance last night to your boss with a trite story of helping with Search and Rescue, you breathe in the relief that you won't lose your job. He even understands that you need a couple of days leave; after you hint heavily that you had lost your family in the earthquakes of course. It's a dirty lie, your family doesn't even live near here anymore, but he doesn't need to know that.
With all the medical emergencies, you're rushed off of your feet, which at least makes the time fly by. After the shift you race back to your apartment, flinging things in a bag. Changes of clothes, a bunch of leftover food from the freezer, and a tape player with a few tapes that you hope will cheer Eddie up. You change as well, putting on a summer dress and tennis shoes, trying to convince yourself you're not doing it for him.
It's inexplicable; you're aching to see him again. It's like a limb has been severed and the phantom pain is excruciating. Which is fucking mental to say the least. You barely know him, and he's… changed.
Driving like a woman possessed, you reach the dirt turning in record time, slamming the breaks when you reach Steve and Nancy's cars. At least he's not alone.
As you jog toward the cabin, you hear a roar, one so loud it dislodges birds from their nests, flapping anxiously to escape. The jog turns into a run as you fly toward the front door, unceremoniously slamming it open.
“Thank Christ it's you! I can't. I can't deal with him. Please.”
Steve looks drained, begging you with wide eyes. There's a fresh cut under his eye with a small bruise forming.
“What the hell happened?”
Nancy approaches, placing a thin hand on your forearm.
“Eddie, he's… we can't do anything, he just keeps calling your name.”
“Roaring it, actually,” Steve adds, looking at your hand with the bulky bag in it. “Are you staying?”
“Yeah, well I thought, I mean- I live alone. No one's gonna miss me for a few days. The hospital knows, so yeah. I suppose I'm staying.”
A crash next door makes you all jump.
“Are you gonna-”
“Yes, I'm going in there. I'll be fine.”
As you tiptoe to the door, you hear Steve mutter, ‘she must be one of us, she goes towards the scary noises.’
“Eddie.”
It's nearly a whisper, but he hears, whipping around to face you. Before you can do anything he's striding forward and wrapping his fierce arms around you. You tense, expecting him to break your ribs, but you relax when the hug is soft.
Your eyes scan the carnage in the room. The chair you'd sat on whilst nursing his injuries is in splinters on the floor. A cabinet looks like a bull ran into it, and there's glass under your shoes.
The bed seems fine at least. Coaxing him gently, you lead him to it and perch on the edge. He sits next to you, not letting you go.
“Eddie what the hell happened?”
Unclenching his grip, he looks at you with tear filled eyes, anguish etched into his very skin. He's trying to form words, you can see it in the way he's concentrating, but they just won't come. Face screwed up, he balls his fist and howls when a claw digs into his own flesh, which only serves to exacerbate the ball of emotion that's fighting his insides.
“It's OK, I'm here, just breathe.”
His maw continues to open and shut, paw gesticulating wildly. You grasp it, being careful of his sharp claws, and try something else.
“Alright, you can't use your words. That's fine, you can just let it out. Just like, awoooo!”
You let out your own mini howl as he stares at you in disbelief.
“Go on, it'll feel good. See? Awwooooo!”
He stares at you with wide eyes, an almost amused look dancing within them.
“See? I feel better. Awwooooo!”
Shaking his large head, he gives you a side glance and tilts his head back to the heavens.
“AARRROOOOOOO!”
It's long and loud, bursting in your ears as a wall of sound.
“Eddie that was awesome,” you gush, hand reaching to wind fingers into his curls.
“Are you OK, I heard- oh.”
Steve bursts in and sees you smiling, Eddie staring at you like a puppy.
“Right, now that's just- what in the- I'll just-”
He leaves looking stunned, never finishing a sentence. A giggle bubbles out of you, a silly little thing that dances in your chest. Eddie reaches to touch your hand in his hair but the claws hit first making you flinch at the sharpness. He looks at you, pained.
“It's alright, you didn't hurt me. At least I can do something about that. Come with me.”
You guide him up and out the room. Steve and Nancy leap off the couch, staring bug eyed, on the cusp of running.
“It's fine, he's just- frustrated. It's a lot to deal with. I'm sure he's very sorry for scaring you, aren't you Eddie?”
The last words are directed at him and he looks down at his feet.
“-Orry.”
“See? If you calm down a little you can speak. We're gonna cut his cla- his nails.”
Steve shakes his head, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, but Nancy? Nancy just smiles, looking between the pair of you, like she just heard a secret.
“I think we should go Steve,” she says, holding him by the elbow to guide him towards the door.
“But we- what if he-”
“Steve!”
“Alright, alright! Keep your pants on. I hope you've got food in that big bag of yours, ‘cause he ate three whole rotisserie chickens. Three! Bones and everything.”
“We’ll be fine. Trust me.”
Nancy drags Steve out the door as he's shouting over his shoulder.
“We'll check on you tomorrow!”
“OK!”
The front door shuts and it's silent in the cabin. Coughing awkwardly, you look around the room searching, speaking as you do so.
“Right, so, let's sort out the bedroom first.”
A broom rests against a nearby wall, so you take it and sweep up the glass shards and bits of furniture and dump them outside. It's not perfect but at least you shouldn't cut your feet.
“OK, nail clippers are not going to work. We need something… is there a toolbox or…”
Mumbling away, you finally locate a dusty red snapbox by the back door and extricate a pair of tin snips and a metal file.
“These should do. Sit down Eddie, I'll put the TV on.”
He does as he's told, carefully tucking his tail under as he perches on the couch. It screams with the weight but holds steady.
You get to work, sorting out the claws on his feet before moving to his bearish hands. The TV mutters indistinctly in the background as you clip and file his claws to half their size; as close to his fingers as you dared. When you look up you see Eddie's gaze is transfixed on you. Ignoring the heat of his stare, you finish up, prodding the end of each nail with a finger pad.
“See? No more scratching. Should be able to practise using your hands more too.”
A heat rolls across your face at your own dirty thoughts. If Eddie notices, he doesn't say anything.
“I brought some beers, you want one?”
He can nod and shake his head now without pain, you've seen him moving with ease, but he chooses instead to blink slowly at you. Gasping a little, you get up and fetch the beers from the fridge and hand one over. It's tricky, but he manages to hold it, looking at you for validation.
“See? That's great! You just need practice.”
“Prrractice.”
“Yes! That's really good, Eddie.”
You beam a sunny smile at him but he looks down and away from you.
“What is it?”
Turning back with glassy eyes, he waves a hand at his new form.
“-rreak.”
“Sorry, what?”
“F-rreak.”
“No! No, Eddie, stop,” you respond, holding one huge hand in both of yours, “you're not a freak. You're scared and, and different, and God knows this is a strange situation, but you're not a freak. You were never a freak.”
He brings one burly arm around your shoulders and hugs you tight to his chest. You can feel the pads of his fingers now, stroking at your arm. For some reason, that's what makes you cry. Tears fall unbidden, streaking down your face alarmingly fast. Eddie pulls away to look at you, eyes brimming with concern.
“I'm fine, it's fine. Really. I just- I can feel your fingertips now.”
Eddie flashes the closest thing to a smile his new face can allow and laces his tough, furry fingers with yours. You sit like that for a while, drinking your beers and staring mindlessly at the TV. Eyes beginning to close of their own accord, you realise you need to go to sleep before you pass out.
“I need to sleep Eddie. Hang on, I'm gonna go change.”
You stand up, fishing a tank top and sleep shorts from your bag as well as a toothbrush, and go about getting ready for bed.
When you return, the TV is off, and Eddie's sitting in a pair of plain black boxer shorts that Nancy must have bought him.
“Eddie, do you think you can brush your teeth or do you need a hand?”
He gets up determined and goes into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Trusting he knows what he's doing, you make your way to the spare room. The bed is tiny and there's no duvet or pillow, just a ratty blanket.
Eddie appears in the doorway.
“No.”
“Huh?”
You turn and he waves a hand at the bed almost in disgust. Taking you by the arm, he leads you to the main bedroom.
“You, herrre.”
He turns and the word is out of your mouth before your brain has a chance to wake up.
“Wait!”
As he looks at you expectantly, you blush and stammer over your sentence.
“I mean, that other bed- it's too small for you Eddie, and theres- there's no pillows and-”
Reaching out with a paw-like hand, he settles it on your forearm gently.
“Herrre?”
“Yeah? If you don't mind, of course.”
Without a further word he climbs onto the bed, covering himself with the duvet you'd found in the closet. You shut the light off and get in too, laying at the very edge of the bed, knees dangling over thin air.
Eddie's not having that though. His arm swipes over and pulls you close so fast air leaves your lungs in a gasp. You settle into him, hand laying on his chest, a furry leg underneath your knee.
“Goodnight Eddie.”
“-Night.”
********************
When morning rolls around you find yourself alone in the bed, a cold dip in the mattress next to you. There's noise coming from the kitchen area but it sounds contained; nothing like the sounds you heard when you arrived yesterday.
The bandage and sticks you hastily splinted his arm with are discarded in a pile on the floor. The material looks like it had been ripped apart by sharp teeth.
Padding out of the room on bare feet you see Eddie's back. The fur along his spine is longer and thicker than the rest, and his tail is swishing. It's sticking out of the hole you made in a pair of sweatpants as he wiggles a frying pan.
“Morning Eddie. Your arm healed already?”
He flicks a glance over his shoulder and flashes his canine teeth, waving the arm around to show you.
“-orrning. Bet-terr.”
“Are you making breakfast?”
He points to a plate next to him where a haphazard tower of pancakes sit.
“Prractice.”
You walk over, shivering a little. Someone's going to have to do something about the holes in the ceiling here. Making a mental note to speak with Steve, you cross the room and stand next to Eddie.
“You need any help?”
He shakes his head and gestures to the table.
“Sit. Eat.”
You pick a couple of pancakes up and put them on a small plate and unearth an ancient bottle of maple syrup from a cupboard. The pancakes are surprisingly good; you find a hair in one but don't mention it.
“Eddie, these are delicious! Thank you.”
“You'rre -elcome.”
“And you're speaking so well!”
“Prrractice.”
He sits opposite you with an enormous plate stacked high with pancakes, offering another to you. Taking one more, you place it neatly on your plate.
“Thanks but that's it. I know you need practice but we don't need so many-”
He picks up two and puts them in his mouth, barely chewing before swallowing and picking up three more.
“-Oh. We're gonna need more food.”
Eddie nods, finishing the stack of pancakes in less than a minute. When he's done, his thick tongue lulls out to lick his fingers. It's so long, practically wrapping around each individual digit.
Mouth hanging open, you snap it shut and close your eyes for a moment trying to will the hedonistic thoughts you're having to stop swirling around your brain.
When you open them again he's staring at you intensely, a hint of amusement in those soulful eyes.
Looking down to avoid that stare, you ask something that you've been dying to find out.
“Eddie, can I ask- are you still, you, in there? Like completely? Or is it, different?”
He looks away, seemingly thinking. It's a while before he turns back, face contorting with the effort of words.
“Still -e, I think. Head… fog-gy. Hurrts. Prrractice.”
You nod and reach for his hand, proud of him for his longest sentence yet. He holds yours gently; the thumb rubbing back and forth over your knuckles showing much better dexterity than yesterday.
A loud knock at the door startles you both, until you hear Steve's voice ring out.
“It's me, it's Steve! You alive?”
Eddie rolls his eyes and you stifle a giggle.
“No Steve, I died! I was maimed! Blood and guts everywhere!”
You smile as you say it, winking at Eddie. Steve barges in, shaking his head.
“Ha ha, very funny. Excuse me for caring,” he turns to Eddie, voice softer than before, “how you feeling, buddy?”
Eddie flashes his teeth.
“Bet-terr.”
“Good, awesome. Hey, did I miss breakfast?”
“Sure did. Eddie made it.”
“Really?”
Steve looks stunned, glancing back and forth between the two of you.
“Yup, he did. All on his own. Actually, while you're here, we need to fix those holes in the roof. At least board them up or something.”
“Yeah sure, I can do that, but I'll need a hand.”
“I… can hel-p.”
The boys get to work and you leave them to it. You busy yourself too; dusting and cleaning the cabin, hanging a sheet up in the bedroom as a makeshift curtain, and making a list of everything you need from the store foodwise. Then, you add even more to it, including four rotisserie chickens.
Whilst food is on your mind, you make a huge pile of sandwiches and call them both in for lunch. Steve looks shocked at the amount of food.
“Woah, don't think we need all-”
Eddie shakes his head and grabs two sandwiches, putting them both in his mouth at once.
“Ah. Right.”
“I think he needs a lot of food because of the injuries. He healed so quickly, I mean, he's got to get the energy from somewhere, right?”
Steve slowly nods, looking at Eddie as he stuffs another sandwich in his mouth.
“Yeah, I guess. Plus, look at the size of him.”
Eddie swallows thickly and stares at the pair of you.
“Can… hearrr you. Rrrude.”
“Sorry, you're right, that was rude of us Eddie.”
You reach a hand out and stroke his arm; his gaze immediately softens.
“Wow, you're like, the Eddie whisperer or some shit.”
Eddie growls in his throat.
“Hey, that wasn't about you it was about her!”
After lunch, they get back to work, completing the patch job on the roof in a few hours. By the time they're done, the sun is starting to set. Steve leaves the pair of you, taking the shopping list and promising he and Nancy will be back tomorrow with fresh supplies. You offer him some money which he swears blind he doesn't need, but you give it to him anyway.
Once dinner is demolished, you and Eddie sit on the couch, watching some made for TV movie. Well, he seems to be watching it. You're uncomfortable, thighs clenching in an effort to put out the raging fire between them. Hyper aware of his arm over your shoulders, you try to block all the horny signals to your brain but it's not working. Huffing loudly, you bite your lip, shuddering at each touch of his gnarled finger pads on the smooth skin of your arm.
“You good?”
You glance up and see Eddie's eyes boring into you.
“Yeah, of course, I'm great.”
“Liarrr.”
Flashing his teeth, he lets out a rough chuckling sound. You press your lips together firmly, refusing to respond.
“You want me. You… want… this.”
He points to his mouth, tongue dipping out past his sharp teeth, far longer than a tongue had any right to be. He twirls it in a little circle and puts the purplish muscle back in his mouth.
“Oh really?” You reply hotly, “and what makes you think that, huh?”
“Can scent.”
“What?”
Wordlessly, he points between your legs. Clenching your thighs harder, you glow scarlet, face igniting with such heat that it almost hurts.
“Eddie, you can't just say that's it- it's impolite!!”
Letting out a little howl of amusement, he strokes up and down your back with his large hand sending shivers through your spine.
He's not wrong. Your panties are clinging to your wet heat uncomfortably, thighs sodden with false anticipation. Your blood is on fire, pumping fast and hard to your aching clit. It's bewildering; you've never felt so needy in all your life. He must be letting out some pheromones or something, brain grasping wildly at straws for an explanation.
“-Orry. Just… you help-ed mme. I can… help you.”
“I don't think- I'm not sure that's a good idea. I mean, your heads all foggy, you said, and, and-”
“Want to.”
He looks entirely serious, meeting your gaze with hardly a blink.
Are you really gonna do this?
Your body is protesting the lack of a decision, pulse thumping hard in your cunt as if to remind you of your predicament. It takes over, urging your hands under your dress to peel off your sticky underwear and put them to one side. Eddie doesn't move, waiting for you to speak, but you can see his pupils are blown, eyes nearly fully black. His snout is snuffling the air, tasting you through his nose.
“Could you… please?”
Tears are stinging your eyes at the discomfort. Eddie blinks once slowly at you, and immediately crouches to his hands and knees on the floor. As he crawls between your thighs, it strikes you that the movement seems more natural than him standing like a person. Gently, he slides your dress up your legs and pushes your legs apart with his giant hands.
You're waiting for the first touch of his tongue, but it doesn't come. First, he smells you, inhaling your cunt so deeply that embarrassment blooms in your chest. The growling, humming noise that emanates from him vibrates into your very bones; it's laced with such desire that your thighs begin to quiver.
Then, he tastes you; tongue lapping at your sex suddenly. You were expecting it, but you weren't expecting the sheer relief that flooded your senses at the first touch of his dripping maw. He slathers it all over you, cleaning your slick from the tops of your thighs, tongue slithering through your folds, around your clit, right down to your ass, as if he can't get enough of the taste of you.
Whining and bucking your hips up already, he growls, holding you open with one brutish hand as the other pushes into the softness of your belly pinning you in place. You can see where his thick blunted claws push at your flesh, leaving dimples on your stomach.
Then his tongue is writhing inside of you, twirling and dancing, hitting spots no other tongue could ever reach. Moans are ripped from your chest, the kind of sounds you would never dare to make before. Pathetic whines, hoarse shouts, screeching cries of pure pleasure. His snout is pressed firmly up against your clit; it's scrunched with the pressure, and each flick of his head makes him nussle it over and over.
Despite Eddie's firm hand holding you down, you still manage to thrash about, legs twitching and back bucking uncontrollably. Your walls are convulsing around his muscle, fluttering with each pulse. He tongue fucks you in earnest then, knowing you're reaching that crescendo as your noises get even louder.
You're beyond words. You couldn't tell him you were about to come if your life depended on it. The only word you can manage is a high pitched squeal of his name as your release floods out of you, slick gushing over his face.
He laps it up, tongue washing over you as you collapse back into the sofa cushions, throat hoarse from yelling. There's an odd, murmuring grunt sound coming from him, the same sound over and over. As your ears finally stop ringing you release he's mumbling a word into you, almost incomprehensible in between licks.
“Mine. Mine, mine… mmmmine.”
Over and over he says it; like a mantra, a prayer to your cunt. Eventually you have to tug him away by his hair to stop him compulsively lapping at you.
He looks up, dazed eyes starting to refocus as he pants like a dog. You pat the fur on his neck over and over, rubbing your fingers through it, your stare desperately trying to tell him what a good job he did.
As he sinks down and sits on the floor, you join him, sliding off the couch and crawling into his lap. He holds you close, nose nuzzling your neck.
“Wan’ kiss you.”
You know what he means. He wants to kiss you properly, like a man and a woman kiss. Not like a beast.
You cradle his head, making your hands appear tiny in comparison, and twist your fingers gently in his fur. Pulling his closed maw toward you, you press your lips against it softly, nudging his nose with yours like he did with your neck. It seems to placate his needs. He keeps his arms in a tight embrace around you as you move your heads as one, nudging your faces together, letting actions speak instead of words.
For the second time in as many days, you wonder what the hell you're getting yourself into.
********************
“Eddie, come try this!”
Calling from the kitchen, you mix batter in a huge bowl, trying to work out if you've used enough sugar. Technically speaking, you're not a chef. Far from it. The last cake you made sank in the middle so much it resembled a sad bundt cake.
“Eddie?”
All you hear is muffled music playing from the bedroom. You go and investigate, spatula in hand, and gently swing the door open.
Eddie's shirtless, his sweats hanging low on his hips, with his guitar slung around his neck. His muscles flex with every strum of his fingers, face screwed in concentration as he attempts to follow along with the tape.
“Eddie?”
Finally he glances up, eyebrows unknitting as he looks at you.
“Wherre you find… the aprrron?”
You'd forgotten about the apron. Glancing down, you see flour dusting it. You brush it off absentmindedly and look back at him.
“Oh, it was in a drawer.”
“Hot.”
You giggle, cheeks flushing.
“What you doing Eddie? Practising?”
He huffs, taking his guitar and laying it gently against the bed.
“Trrrying. Not good enough.”
“Yet.”
Exposing his teeth in a bestial smile, he walks over to you.
“Yet. What you calling forrr?”
He tilts his head, exposing the fuzzy tip of his ear through his hair, rough hand rubbing up your arm.
“Oh, I see. You could hear me, hmm?” You place your hand on your hip dramatically. He nods, crowding over you, making your breath hitch in your throat, as thick furry fingers stroke at your skin.
“Well, I was asking you to try this.”
You tap his nose with the end of the spatula, leaving behind a splat of uncooked cake batter. His maw opens in shock as you laugh.
“Don't… do…”
“What, don't do this?”
You get him again, this time on his cheek, smudging the mixture in the soft fur. He raises an eyebrow at you, face stoic as he crosses his arms over the expanse of his chest. He'd look intimidating, if it wasn't for the batter dripping off his snout.
“What you gonna do about it, huh?”
He takes a step backward, unfolding his arms, and cracks his neck from side to side. His knuckles are next, popping with the stretch. Then, he starts growling out a low countdown.
“One… two… thrrree…”
“Oh, it's like that is it?”
“...fourrr… five…”
You run out of the room, flinging the spatula onto the kitchen side, and look for somewhere to go, but there isn't anywhere. This place is tiny. Jogging around the couch, you hear Eddie roar like a lion and your pulse quickens. He shoulders nonchalantly out the bedroom, crouching low. Adrenaline hits you as you try to work out how to get past.
Attempting to fake him out, you run one way, then immediately double back, dashing around the back of the couch. Eddie's moves are a blur, husky arm scooping you up by the waist and dragging you over his shoulder in an instant. Kicking and giggling, you bash at his back trying to get him to let go, but you may as well pound on a concrete wall.
There's a sudden rush of air and your back meets the wooden floor, landing with a soft ‘ooft’ noise. He pins you down, powerful legs straddling you, holding both your arms over your head with one brutish hand almost lazily. It easily circles both of your wrists.
Taking his free hand, he scoops the mixture off of his nose and licks it with his tongue, twirling it around until every last bit is gone. You're breathing heavily. That display, teamed with him wrestling you to the ground so easily, has your heart thumping a tattoo inside your chest.
He makes a face, scrunching his snout.
“That bad?”
“I know… what rrrather eat.”
Flashing his pointed teeth, he runs his tongue over them, looking at you like you're his favourite meal. He leans in close, hot breath fanning your face.
“You like this.”
“No.” You say, even though you're trembling and hot all over.
“Liarrr.” He says it whilst tapping his nose.
He pushes his body against yours so you can feel his solid bulge pressing up against your core. Nothing can stop the whimper that gurgles out your throat, no matter how much you bite your lip.
A warm hand paws at your breast over the apron as his tongue dances across the shell of your ear. Pushing upward with your hips, you make a futile attempt at escaping. Not that you want to, but the game is just getting good. He growls in your ear and the sound shoots straight to your cunt…
Then the front door flies open.
“So we got- Jesus Eddie, no! Get the hell off her!”
Steve drops paper bags on the floor as you both turn your heads to face him. Nancy's running in beside him trying to drag him backwards by the elbow.
“Steve, I don't think-”
“It's not what it looks like!” You stammer it out as Steve gawps.
“What- what's going on!”
Nancy turns him so he has to look at her, talking to him like a child.
“Steve, when a man and a woman like each other very much-”
His face immediately starts glowing scarlet. Eddie clambers off you and holds one hand out to lift you off the floor, hunching awkwardly to try and hide his erection as he takes refuge behind the couch.
“Seriously? Him? He's- he's-”
He gestures widely at Eddie. You hear a snarling coming from behind you so you hold a hand out to calm him, fingers meeting soft fur. Your eyes harden as you stare sternly at Steve.
“He's Eddie. He's just Eddie. He might look different but he's still here, and you're being… rude.”
“You're right, I'm sorry,” he looks over to Eddie sheepishly, “sorry Munson, I didn't mean-”
“Don't worrry, I… underrrstan’. Harrrd to rremem-berrr… even forrr mme.”
Steve looks surprised at how much his speech has come on, but he doesn't mention it. Instead, he holds out a hand, taking Eddie's giant one in his own and shaking it.
“Listen, I got what you asked for, it should be all here. If you're both alright, we'll get out of your fur- shit- hair! Out of your hair!”
Eddie snickers low in his throat as Steve tries to hide his face from his own faux pas.
After packing the food away, and a couple of hugs and goodbyes, they leave you it. Nancy promises they'll be back in a couple of days to check in, and that they'll knock first.
Once you're both alone you breathe a sigh of relief, turning to Eddie.
“I'm sorry about him.”
Eddie looks down, clutching the back of the couch.
“I'm s-orry. Should have… ask-ed you out beforrre… this.”
You round the couch and grasp his bicep in your hands, staring at his side profile.
“Hey, hey, you didn't know this was gonna happen. How could you ask me out? It's not like you even noticed me really before, right?”
Eddie refuses to meet your gaze. His eyelashes are dipping down, nearly kissing his cheeks.
“Eddie?”
He rumbles a sound out, shaking his head, making his hair ripple about his shoulders.
“I… lik-ed you. Wan-ted you. Was… scarrred. You werrre.. arrre… too good forrr mme.”
An ache settles in your chest at his words, face creasing with anguish.
“Oh... Oh, Eddie, don't do that. I'm here now. And I'm not too good, that's just not true.”
Your fingers wind into his fur, trying to tug him around but it's no use. You can see the tension in his arm underneath.
So, if that isn't working, you'll try something else.
“Seems I won.”
His head turns quickly then, staring at you, muzzle wrinkled in confusion.
“Our little chase?”
You wipe the remnants of cake batter off of his cheek with two fingers. He watches you intently as you bring them to your mouth, pushing them deep inside and hollowing your cheeks. Eddie grunts, maw extending open slightly as he swallows thickly in his throat. You suck hard, and pull your fingers out, running the flat of your tongue up and around them, leaving a string of spit behind.
“I think you're right, that doesn't taste good.”
Eddie's staring at you, eyes nearly black as his tongue lulls from his mouth, panting.
“So, I won. I got free, didn't I?”
Eddie's ribs are rising and falling distinctly. He steps toward you, the back of his hand dragging its coarse knuckles over your cheek.
“Don't count… Caught you.”
“Yeah? And I got free! So I win, right? Unless you don't think that's fair?”
Snout nuzzling at your hairline, he breathes in your scent deeply and cups your face, pulling it towards his. You kiss his mouth gently, crushing soft lips against his hard jaw. He pushes his maw against you, opening his mouth and snaking his tongue between your lips.
It's messy, tongues licking each other as spit pools and drips down your chin. His burly hand rests on the back of your head, covering it completely, forcing you to stay in place, while the other reaches down to grasp at the flesh of your ass.
When you break away, you're both panting, breathing laboured and ragged.
“Woah. Fuck,” you huff out between hard exhales, “you can kiss.”
“Interrrrup-ted.”
“Huh?”
You're dizzy from the kiss, lips red and swollen, still slightly parted as his fingers trace down your back.
“We werre… interrrup-ted. Don't count.”
“Ah, I see. So what do you-”
“One. Two… thrrree…”
This time you fly from his grip and race out the room, considering the bathroom for a second before you dive wildly into the main bedroom. Eyes scanning as quickly as you can, you see a trap door at the foot of the bed.
It swings open when you pull the rusted metal ring and you stick your head inside. It's little more than a crawl space, full of cobwebs and mouldy boxes. You scrabble inside and snap the trap door shut just as you hear a bellowing roar from the other room.
He won't actually be expecting you to hide, and you're rather pleased with yourself at the spot you'd managed to find, laying on your back wedged in the stuffy space.
The door swings open and you will your heart to slow down. Surely he can hear it hammering from here? It's thumping loudly in your own ears, blood whooshing through your head.
The floorboards creak with each step he takes. When he falls to the ground suddenly, crawling on all fours, your thighs clench.
“Sweet-hearrrt…I know you’rrre herrre… can smell you…”
His sing-song tone, along with the growling purr of his voice had you biting your lip so hard you could taste tin.
You follow the shadow of his form through the slats, not daring to move, not daring to breathe. Suddenly his massive furred arm swipes under the bed, catching nothing but air. You slap a hand over your mouth to stifle a giggle.
He goes entirely still, pressing his snout to the floor, and sniffs between the floorboards. You can see his nose twitching just above your head.
“Arrre you… in the crrrawlspace?”
He sounds impressed, finding the trap door only a second later. Light floods your hiding place as you try to wriggle your body away from him, but there's no room. In an instant he's got your ankles in his clutches as you shriek in protest, pulling you from the gap below.
In seconds he scoops you up and hurls you on the bed as if you weigh nothing at all, then jumps on top of you, pinning you down as the bed springs squeak dramatically.
“Cleverrr… but can't hide from mme…” He purrs, and leans closer to your ear, voice a deeper, threatening growl.
“I can smell yourrr cunt.”
You take a sharp inhale at his words. As if your pussy could understand him, you feel squelching wetness seep out, aching to be touched.
Eddie sits up, straddling you, and rips your apron and top in half as easily as tissue paper, exposing bare flesh. Greedily, he lathes his tongue from the nape of your neck down to your breasts, swirling it around each nipple leaving a trail of spit in its wake.
Your skin itches, flashing red hot, the throbbing between your legs becoming unbearable. You're whimpering, close to tears with the sheer need for him.
“Eddie, Eddie please.”
Wasting no time he climbs off the bed and yanks your jeans off in one go, not bothering to even unzip them, and does the same with his sweats. Standing fully to attention, his monstrous length looks painfully hard, throbbing purple.
You hook fingers into the waistband of your panties to take them off, but Eddie slaps your hand away, and leans down, hot breath dancing over the skin of your thighs. Sharp teeth graze your abdomen, not enough to cut your skin but enough to leave angry red marks in a pathway to your sex.
Then he's gripping your underwear in his teeth and ripping the flimsy lace off, leaving it in shreds. The feral gesture has you groaning out loud, thighs immediately opening to him. A thick tongue slivers through your folds, tasting you, until he presses a clawed finger to your opening, thrusting it inside with no warning.
“Fuck, that- that feels so good!”
Just like when he went down on you, that familiar rush of relief at his ministrations pours over you, nearly bringing you to tears. He moves up the bed, other arm holding him steady above your head so he can crowd your senses, intently watching your face as he fucks you with his finger.
He forces another finger in making you cry out, small hand gripping at his forearm to try and slow him down, but his movements are unrelenting.
“Eddie, too much, please-”
He growls, the sound making you clench even more around him as he curls his fingers, keeping them painfully deep inside.
“Have to. You need… to take me… prrrincess.”
You nod your understanding as you wince at the stretch, but the discomfort melts away as your release slinks up your spine, heat pooling in your belly making you moan and push back into his grip. His rough palm presses harshly into your clit, thick skin slipping against the silken nub.
“See… goood girrrrl.”
You clutch at his fur as your orgasm expels from your body, throwing your head back into the mattress as your cunt gushes around his grip violently. He purrs his satisfaction in your ear and pulls his fingers from you. Rubbing them over his pulsating shaft, he spreads your slick and holds his girth by the base.
“Eddie, I-I'm ready, I need you.”
Grunting at your words, he forces the swollen head into your soaked folds. Your eyes snap tightly shut as you cling desperately to muscle and fur. Seemingly unable to control himself, he thrusts his whole length straight into you, tilting his head back and roaring so loud that dust falls from the ceiling.
You're expecting blinding pain at the enormity of his length but it doesn't come. Instead, that first thrust pulls a second orgasm from you, one so profound that it fizzes through your every nerve and leaves spots in your vision. The blazing heat of your skin subsides as you throb around him, your prior discomfort melting away entirely. The same sureness that settled in your gut when you arrived is back. This is where you're supposed to be.
No words come from Eddie, just forceful thrusts and throaty noises as he fucks into you like an animal. He's on his hands and knees, one arm dipping into the small of your back, holding you firmly against him as he forcefully humps into you, using you. The slick sounds of your conjuncture echo through the cabin; all wet sucking noises, gravelly growls and high pitched moans.
Suddenly he snarls, teeth exposed, and grabs you by the hips, flinging you to the floor on your front. Your breath leaves you in shock, wooden boards rough against your naked skin. Yanking your ass in the air by the flesh of your hips he forces his throbbing member back inside, fucking into you so harshly that it's hard to stay upright. You're slipping forward with each piston of his hips, arms trembling with effort.
Eddie's panting, pools of drool gathering at the base of your neck, mixing and mingling with your sweat. A sharp pain cuts through all the pleasure, ripping into the meat of your shoulder, causing you to scream and tense up, pussy fluttering pathetically around him. It pushes you over that precipice once again, the hurt and the bliss intertwining into a mass of feeling, tangled and twisted, unable to exist without the other.
His member swells, growing impossibly, and a bulbous growth locks in you as he releases with a desperate broken howl. You feel the pumping of his cum deep inside, coating your trembling walls, claiming you.
A minute or so later he's collapsing to the side, pulling you close with his bearish arm, still firmly buried inside your cunt. Time seems to stop as you both pant, gasping for air, tangled in his furry embrace. As his breathing finally slows, he manages to purr one word in your ear.
“Mine.”
Part 2
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ugly truth
pt 2 of this. pt 3 here.
aged up bakugo x reader
cw: descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals
a month had passed since you walked out on katsuki, walked out on your life, your home--everything you knew.
a number of your friends, along with plenty of katsuki's (who were mutual friends at this point), had reached out to you, offering a place to stay.
mina, kirishima, denki, and sero in particular were constantly checking on you and shooting you texts in case you needed to talk.
you knew they meant well, for they were bakugo's closest friends and knew how mean he could be. occasionally, you spent a night with them, the five of you coming together to watch a movie or play a game.
however, you knew they talked to bakugo too, so you remained cautious and never overshared--especially to kirishima. he was bakugo's right hand, his best friend since u.a.
there was no way you were going to show any semblance of missing bakugo, not around him.
once you found your own place, you'd distanced yourself from them, avoiding overstaying your welcome.
after they helped you move into your apartment and yet again reminded you, "if you need anything, we're here! really, anything at all!" you settled into your new space, suddenly feeling so alone.
for the first time in what felt like eternity, there was pure silence.
and then there wasn't.
the loudness, the static in your mind overpowered everything, several emotions washing over you like tidal waves. each wave was bigger than the last, merciless as it dragged you under, filling your nose and lungs with doubt, regret, sadness, anger.
"fuck," you whispered, pulling a pillow to your chest, "fuck."
you sobbed into the pillow, draining yourself of every ounce of strength and independence you thought you had.
you and bakugo had been together for three years--three years that you spent falling asleep, knowing you'd wake up to his face in the morning, three years of cooking meals large enough for two people, three years of habitually closing the shower curtain after your shower because it irked him when it was left open, three years of keeping the sodas on the left side of the fridge and water on the right.
three years. how can you unlearn three years worth of habits? let go of three years worth of comfort?
i can't do this, i can't. i can't be alone.
your subconscious was destroying you, and you hated that you felt like it was right. how could you survive alone?
your chest tightened, and the room spun and spun as the oxygen left your lungs too quick, overworking your circulatory and respiratory system.
"i need him-" you choked out, grasping desperately at nothing, nothing that could help you ground yourself.
a wave of dread rolled through you, sending your body into complete and total panic. just as you moved to stand, to grab your phone and call whoever, you felt a sense of airiness before your body tapped out, sending you straight back down to the floor.
-
"yeah, they're okay." a pause, "no, i just found them like this. i didn't know what else to do."
you groaned quietly, slowly blinking your eyes open to a stark, off-white ceiling. the blinding light made you regret it immediately, not to mention the pounding headache, swollen eyes, and nasty-feeling skin.
"y/n? you awake?" you recognized mina's voice from right beside you.
"yeah, god," you mumbled, hesitantly cracking an eye open, "hospital?"
"yeah. sorry, i just.." she trailed off, looking down at her shoes, "i found a pair of shoes you left at my place and wanted to give them back. then i found you just.. out cold."
you scrunched your eyes as you tried to remember anything before the onyx pit you were dropped into but thinking just hurt your head more.
"kirishima's on his way. he's super worried, you know." she chuckled, grabbing your hand, "he hates hospitals."
you squeezed her hand, finally managing to open your eyes fully, "me too. they stink."
she laughed, scooting her chair closer to your bed, "do you remember what happened?"
you tried to concentrate, pondering what you were doing. obviously, you had just moved in and..
"oh." you sighed, suddenly feeling stupid. of course, you'd been crying like the damn baby katsuki said you were, "i think i was just anxious. you know, new place and all."
"you could've stayed living with me, you know. i don't mind your company at all."
you shook your head, "i have to," your voice cracked a little, but you hid it with a cough, "i have to move past this. get on with my life."
"but there's no rush, y/n, you know--"
"where are they?" your body stiffened at the voice echoing off the linoleum and into your ears, triggering the code red alarm inside your head.
suddenly, the door slammed open and in walked a terrified looking katsuki and a guilty kirishima.
you scooted yourself back into the plastic barrier of the bed, clenching the bars, "what the hell is he doing here?"
"y/n, are you okay? what happened?" katsuki approached the bed, inspecting you for any injuries.
"get the hell away from me!" you winced at the pull on the iv in your arm as you moved impossibly farther away from him.
the heart monitor beside you was picking up, your blood pressure climbing higher and higher the closer he got.
mina stepped between the two of you before he could say anything, "kiri, what the hell? why would you bring him?"
"you were on speaker in my car when you told me, and we were together!" he explained frantically, "he didn't listen to me."
she shook her head, pushing katsuki towards the door, "you shouldn't be here. they don't wanna see you."
he looked past her, pleading at you with his eyes, "please, y/n, i'm so sorry, okay? i need you, okay? i need you, and i need to know that you're okay."
"y/n?" mina looked back at you, silently asking what she should do.
"i don't want to see him." you looked away, unable to look in his eyes for fear of falling victim to their lure.
without hesitation, mina ushered him to the exit despite his protests, almost getting him completely out when there was a thud on the linoleum.
katsuki was on his knees, his arm outstretched above his head as he clutched something in his fist.
for a moment, you expected him to set off an explosion or anything of the crazy sort.
you flinched as he opened his fist, fully expecting to be blown to bits.
instead, the fluorescent lights bounced off the shine of what you were 101% sure was an engagement band.
the other two in the room gasped, kirishima releasing his quirk that had instinctively taken over the front of his body.
"i was gonna ask you," he choked out, "before i quit the agency. but then everything went south and, and i--i just, i lost sight, y/n, and i'm so sorry. i'll be better, i swear it."
your hand covered your mouth, though you were speechless anyways. instinctively, you felt anger. how could he do this to you? here? now? after you'd wound up in the hospital because of him?
"how dare you," you spat, tears welling up in your eyes, "how dare you do this to me? do you enjoy hurting me, huh? tearing me apart just to build me back up again? do you get off on that--that glory?"
he was crying too, his eyes pleading, "i don't wanna hurt you. i'll go to therapy, i'll change, i swear. whatever you want me to do, i'll do it right now."
you swallowed hard around the ball in your throat, "leave. leave me alone and stay the hell out of my life."
hospital staff came flooding into the room before katsuki could respond, ushering the three of them out, "i'm sorry, this hospital has low tolerance for commotion like this. security will see you out."
you had never been more grateful that you were in a hospital, relief flooding your body as you turned onto your side, letting the tears run down your cheeks.
it wasn't fair. he knocked you about a hundred tiny steps back, considering you'd only taken a hundred tiny steps in the past month. your heart was throbbing, and a large part of you couldn't help but question your decision.
what if he really would change, get better? he was the love of your life. no one had ever loved you better.
extremely stressed, you found yourself questioning whether you'd made the right decision.
wow, i was super surprised by the amount of support. it was meant to be a standalone, but now i’m pretty sure there will be a 3rd part. thank you so much for the support! 🩷
tags: @blackout-ice-biohazard @survivorofmath @iam-thevillain-of-thisstory @odessa-is-my-queen @firesmokeandashes @tsukikoxo @valentineshiftz
#bnha#anime#mha#my hero academia#angst#boku no hero academia#drabble#gender neutral reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#bakugo katsuki#bakugo x reader#katsuki bakugo mha#panic attack#gender neutral y/n#mina ashido#kirishima ejiro#kirishima ejirou#grapeflop$
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desolate {aemond targaryen x reader}
word count: 1.3k
parts: one | two
warnings: 18+. mentions of dub-con sex. toxic/unhealthy dynamics. angst. proceed with caution.
note: all grammar mistakes are my own. this ended up going differently than planned because i didn't want it to feel rushed. + part 2 is up!!!
Once a week, Aemond would bed you.
Ever since your wedding, now only a couple months ago, Aemond would come to your chambers when the hour was late and take you on your bed. Only to leave once the deed was done.
His orgasm would overtake him as if he hadn’t been chasing it in the first place. He had sex with you- no. He would fuck. This was somehow separated from you. This was his duty. His burden as your husband to plant you with his heirs. Your place as his wife was to take it and you did. This must be the truth of most marriage alliances, you thought. This was not the story that lied between the pages of the books on your bookshelf. This was your life. This was the order of things.
You didn’t know if you felt disappointed, you didn’t know if you were allowed to. You had married into a house more noble than your own. Every other perk of being married to a prince had fallen in your lap. People tending to you. Intricately tailored dresses. Glorious feasts. You could not have it all. You felt it was out of your place to complain.
One night you were called into Aemond’s chambers for the first time ever. He had never asked you to be brought to him, he had only ever come to you. You were getting ready for bed. You were dressed in your silk nightgown and your hair was released from the braids and pins from the day.
“Aemond,” you called out to him as the door closed behind you.
“Wife,” he sat in his usual seat facing the fire, back turned to you.
You padded over to him.
“You sent for me?”
“I did.”
You shrug at him and your eyes find a letter in his hand.
“Do your eyes wonder, wife?”
You grimace, “I’m sorry?”
He reads off the paper, “My mother’s garden is far from lacking, still, I do miss the smell of roses.”
You furrow your brows at him and at the mention of your preferred scent.
“Now . . . have you been seeking the company of other men?” he looks at you with an unreadable expression on his face.
“Yes,” you lie. What were you doing?
His eyebrows raised, he let out a dry laugh, and looked into the flames of the fireplace, “Hm . . .”
He shakes his head and says, “Get out.”
“Do you want to know what me and this man would do in each other’s company?” What were you doing?
“Get out,” he was looking at you now.
“Depraved things,” you whispered, eyes locked on him, feet planted to the ground.
“Get. Out.”
“And he would . . .,” you reached for the straps on your nightgown, the loose fit allowing the straps to come off your shoulders causing the silk to fall from your body to a pool at your feet, “touch me here-“ you channeled the best you knew from the novels tucked tightly into your shelves. You hand moved at a snail's pace towards your lower navel-
“That’s enough!” Aemond rose from his seat and took long strides towards you. He grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. His eyes burned into yours, seemingly unphased by the sight of you completely bare before him. Blinded by his rage.
You didn’t know what you were thinking. You weren’t. However, you knew you liked seeing him like this.
“Your lover’s head will be delivered on a spike to his family due morning. Do you understand me?”
You look up at him, jaw clenched, smile bright on your face.
“And I myself will deal with you.”
“Oh yeah? How so?” you tilt your head at him.
“What has gotten into you?!” he implored.
“I’m lying!”
He takes a step back from you, disgusted and obviously not buying it.
��I have lain with no other man, husband.” you shook your head.
He moves to pick up the letter, the paper crinkling in his fingers.
“On my mother, I haven't, you must believe me!”
He looks up at you then, eyelids heavy. He moves to throw the letter into the flames of the fire, watches as the parchment is engulfed by the flames, then turns to walk back to you. He grabs a firm hold of your jaw and pulls your face to look up at him.
“On your mother?” he knew you held such sayings with high reverence.
“On my mother, on everything. I am not aware of why he remembers my scent” you say with a now shattered veneer.
“Why do you forget yourself?”
“I liked for a moment that the idea of someone else claiming me would make you upset. I liked the idea of you fighting for me. I liked seeing you angry and that it was because of my doing. It makes me feel-”
“What? Amused?” he furrows his brows at you.
“Wanted. Aemond, it makes me feel wanted. Men writing letters to me is more indicative of your character than of mine,” you moved your arms to cover your body now, somehow feeling more naked, “does it not bother you, not that they want me, but that they see a gap in our marriage wide enough to prod at?”
After a moment you wait for him to respond, but there’s silence and you shake your head. You bend down to grab the nightgown at your feet and pull the straps back over your shoulders. You take one more glance at him before walking to the door.
“Wait,” he reaches for your arm. You turn to him.
“Sleep in my bed with me tonight,” he says.
When you don’t answer, he sweeps you up from your feet and carries you bridal style to his bed. After setting you down, he slings his trousers and tunic to his chair and crawls in with you. He lays his head on the pillow next to yours, facing you. You lay flat on your back staring at the ceiling. You could feel his eye scanning your face.
You thought about how silly it would sound if you explained to your closest friend that after this amount of time into your marriage, though short, you were just now laying in your husband's bed. You also thought about how he only did this after being threatened with the idea of another man wanting you. How you were only worth fighting for because another man deemed you worthy of doing so. You began to cry.
Aemond sat up and pulled you into his arms. He cradled you close to his chest as you sobbed. The only sound filling the room was your muffled weeps into his chest. He rocked you back and forth and pulled you tighter to him.
“I have wronged you,” he says.
You say nothing.
“I told myself that I was doing you a favor by distancing myself from you as we are not bound by love,” he said, “I created a sequence in my head: a marriage before the septon then a baby as consummation. My job as a second son, a pawn. My favor to you after our wedding was to make this process as stealthy as possible. My way of coping with that was to take the human aspect out of it. Remove the fluff. Make it impersonal. That was my mistake.”
“You don’t know how lonely it’s been,” you responded, voice quiet.
“I want to make it up to you,” he sounded desperate, “how do I make it up to you?”
“Time.”
“That’s all I need.”
“Effort.”
“Of course.”
“I would like you, for the time being, to make love to me instead of fuck me and it will be when I say,” you look at him.
“Okay,” he responds in a hushed tone, eyes darkening.
“Not now, another time,” you sigh, “but tonight you will hold me as we sleep and I hope not to wake up to an empty bed in the morning.”
He nods and lifts you to lay you back on your side of the bed again. You fall asleep with your back to his chest. This would be the new order of things.
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#smut#aemond x fem!reader#aemond one eye#aemond targaryen smut#aemond x y/n#aemond targaryen imagine#hotd aemond
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a misfortune | (mechanic!harry part 1)
Okay, so here is my version of the grumpy!harry x sunshine!yn trope. I had midterms so this got a bit late! Sorry! I don't rhink you waited for my shitty writing, but here it is (forcefully)
masterlist | tip me! | ask box!
Summary: Harry is a grumpy asshole, but he is also a mechanic that you are in desperate need of. Sunshine!reader x Grumpy! harry trope
Word Count: ~2k
8 hours.
That's how long you've been in the backseat of your car, and chewing on your already swollen nails. All your belongings, from clothes to your oversized makeup bag, toiletries, blankets, bedsheets, and even your electronic gadgets, are crammed beside you on the backseat. Your life has spiraled into chaos because your landlord has kicked you out.
Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision as you recall the moments that have led you to this bleak situation. It isn't fair, which is something you think. That isn't true though. You haven't paid your proper rent in nearly six months, frequently stumbling home at obnoxious hours, blasting loud music when you were drunk and high, and you hadn't even bothered to check the 15-day eviction notice that arrived almost 20 days ago. So, yes, your landlord had every right to kick you out.
You were irresponsible, reckless, and didn't give two cares until you became homeless. With your car serving as an unwelcome shelter, you realize you should have been more responsible. You should have cared more about your living situation before it all came crashing down on you. If only you had taken your life more seriously, you wouldn't be stuck in your car on this cold, lonely night.
It was the beginning of November, and you had so many plans about decorating your small apartment. You had fetched out the Christmas lights too, planning on hanging them out the following weekend. The memory of those festive plans, the warmth of the holiday spirit, now feels like a distant dream.
You wipe away your tears, but they keep flowing. You shift some of your stuff down on the floor of the car to make some space to sleep in. You curl up into yourself in the small space, and after a few more tears, you're finally asleep.
You're woken by harsh knocks on your window. You try to open your eyes, but the sunlight pouring in through the window is so blinding that you have to squint and shield your face with your hand.
It's a man, who looks angry at you. You roll down the window a bit so you can hear what he's saying.
“Could you move your car out of here, please?”
You rub your eyes and finally get a look at your surroundings, and you see that you've basically parked at the entrance of a house.
“Yeah-yeah. I will. Sorry,” you grunt with a raspy voice, and he goes back inside.
You quickly fix your clothes and your hair, and grabbed the car keys from your pocket. Opening the door, you got out of the backseat and got back out front.
Pushing the key in, you turned it, but the engine didn’t start. You tried it again and again, biut all in vain.
Great.
Just fucking great.
Now even your car had given up on you.
You felt like crying all over again, this was all so heartbreaking. You had to get the car checked almost two months ago, when the check engine light had started to blink first.
You pulled out your phone and searched for a nearby garage. Hopefully, there was one that was 2 blocks away. But that meant you wouyld have to push your car two blocks.
You could also call a tow service, but that would take money, and money was something you were running short on.
With a loud sigh, you switched the handbrake on, and got out of the car.
Rolling up your sleeves, you started to push it. The car was so heavy, and you managed a good 200 meters, before you were sweating profusely, and almost gave up, putting your hands on your knees and breathing loudly.
A kind man offered to help, and thank lord he did. With lots of struggle and a good 15 minutes, you were finally able to reach the garage.
Quick Fix Auto
You read the garage name, before lockiong your car and walking in. It was still 8 pm, so you doubted getting any help at this hour.
“Hello?”
You called out tentatively as you entered the garage and walked further into the shop, past the cars and vehicles scattered out front. Hopefully, a second voice would call you back, or you would have had to wait for someone to come in.
“Yeah, I’m a bit busy. Be out in a minute,” the voice replied. It sounded British and thickly laced with an accent. You couldn't help but think that now a gorgeous British guy would see your horrible car, which was also your home, all wrecked up and messed up due to negligence. Bonus points to you for not even washing your face after waking up.
You briefly contemplated running away and finding another garage with an old mechanic. However, you realized you physically wouldn't have been able to do that. So, you took a deep breath, preparing to face the embarrassment and potential humiliation.
After a few moments, he came out, and boy, was he gorgeous. A white headband held his thick hair back, and below that was a beautifully shaped face with green eyes. His tan hands were covered in a bit of grease, and he had tools hanging from his upturned waistband.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, and you gulped hard, snapping back to reality from admiring his physique. Boy, was he pretty.
“Oh, um... I tried to start my car this morning, but it won’t start.”
“And what’s the issue? The battery is out, fuel is down?”
“I don’t know, that’s why I came here.”
“Jeez, your breath smells terrible. Alright, let me have a look at it. Keys?”
He extended his hand to take your keys while looking into your eyes. You squinted at him for his rude remark, then handed him the keys.
“You don’t have to be so rude, you know.”
He kept walking, ignoring your comment. As he reached your car, he stopped in his tracks when he saw your belongings inside it. He turned back to look at you, and you frowned. Eye bags, dark circles under your eyes, a sad face, and you hadn't even washed your face; you had to rush to get your car fixed. You were in bad shape.
He decided to draw a line and not throw questions at you. He opened your car and took a look inside, noticing that the check engine light was on.
“How long has this been on for?”
“Oh, that. Yeah, about... 2 months?”
He slumped his shoulders and came back out, walking to yhe front and opening the hood of the car. As soon as it went up, a big cloud of smoke escaped.
“Fuck. What did you do?”
He coughed a bit, taking a step back to let the smoke dissipate. You felt even more humiliated than before, but he seemed more focused on the issue with your car than making further remarks about your condition.
“Alright. So, this is not going to get fixed in a short while. It’s going to take atlest 2 days.”
“No! Where will I live?”
You exclaimed loudly, and his eyes widened.
You could book a hotel?”
“I don’t have money.”
“A motel?”
“How will I reach one? Most of them are out of town.”
“Right, so you could still sleep in it at night, but I lock the garage at 11. So, you will have to park it outside.”
She nodded her head, and he still felt bad for her.
“I’m Harry, by the way”
He extended the same grease-stained hand again, and she complied, shaking hands with him.
"I'm Yn." she said.
"There’s a bathroom at the back. You can clean up there if you want to. My staff comes in at 9, so you still have about half an hour."
She smiled at his kind offer. He might be rude and grumpy, but he wasn't a bad person.
"Thank you, Harry. I really appreciate it."
"Oh that's okay. But, you do have money to pay for your car, right?"
You did a quick calculation in your mind, and quickly came to the conclusion that you didn't have even that money.
"No, but- listen to me! My payday is here, so I'm gonna get paid soon. I have to buy few supplies first, and then I promise I will pay you as soon as possible. I'll borrow money from my friends."
"As long as I get paid, I don't care where you get the money from."
And the grumpiness was back.
"Okay! Can I go in?"
"Sure. Be my guest."
You got some stuff from the car and went inside the garage. walking all the way to the back, and finding the washroom. You locked the door and cleaned yourself up.
Meanwhile, Harry took a look at your car.
It was in a bad condition. it hadn't been serviced in over two years, and the engine oil hadn't been replaced in so long. The battery was old too. A lot of work had to be done. and he had no idea how he would manage when you literally lived in the car.
Meanwhile, you were happy to have gotten a place to brush and bathe. Initially, you thought you would have to go to a cafe or restaurant, and brushing and bathing there would’ve been embarrassing. Even though embarrassment and humiliation were your best friends now.
You walked out in clean clothes a while later. and saw your car standing at the same place, with no sign of Harry. You searched for him again, and found him at the back, working on the same car he had been in when you had arrived.
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Why aren't you working on my car?"
He slid out from the bottom of the car, before replying, "I have other jobs too. First come, first serve. Plus, this one paid me in advance."
You frowned and flared at his words, and decided to deal with him later.
"So, can I take it, then? I have to go to work."
"No, I will work on it in the afternoon."
"Then how the hell am I supposed to reach work?"
"Many options, by foot, take the bus, order an Uber, Oh! Sorry! I forgot you didn't have money."
He mocked you once again, and this time, you seriously wanted to punch him across the face. Maybe you would, once your car was done. But right now, you have priorities.
"Alright, fine. But my stuff is in the car."
"Chill. Nobody's gonna take it. They might give things to you, though."
You rolled your eyes again, and went back to your car. Why did he have to be such a dick?
Gathering your bag, you stuffed your valuables, leaving only clothes and heavy articles behind. You shifted it to one corner, and draped a huge sheet to cover it.
"Okay, I'm leaving."
And once again, that grumpy asshole ignored you.
(next part)
divider by @firefly-graphics
okay, sorry if this sucked, i really don't know how to write l literally finished this at 2am, so really really sorry
taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli @tchlamqtsgf @the-mouse27 @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @babyiamperfectforyou @whoreonmondays @avalentina
let me know if you want to be added or removed!
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fic#harry styles x reader#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles x you#harry styles writing#harry edward styles#harrystyles#harry#harry fic#harry fanfiction#harry fluff#harry styles au#mechanic!harry#mechanic au#mechanic!harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles series#harry styles concept#harry styles fic rec#harry styles fan fictions#harry x yn#harry x you#harry x y/n#harry styles x yn#harry styles x y/n
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Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes
Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?
Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc
Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe
Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx
Masterlist
“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.”
Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him.
Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now.
A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.
“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.
“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.
“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.
“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.
“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.
“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.
“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”
“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.
“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.
“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.
“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”
“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.
“I don’t even know where to start.”
“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.
The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.
“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.
“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.
“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.
“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.
“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”
“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.
“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.
Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.
“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces.
You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.
You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up.
Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.
“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.
Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.
“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.
“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.
“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”
“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”
“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair.
“No he’s not, why would you say that?”
“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?”
You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.
You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.
He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.
“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.
“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.
“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.
“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.
“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later.
The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.
Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.
“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”
When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.
“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.
“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.
“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.
“You what? You move fast, man.”
“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”
“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”
“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”
The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal.
Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.
“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”
“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.
“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.
“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.
“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”
“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away.
You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.
“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.
“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa.
“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.
“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.
“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.
“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”
“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.
You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day.
Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.
“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.
“Why would they do that?”
“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.
“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.
“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”
“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.
You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.
Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place.
“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.
“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.
Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.
You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan.
Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.
There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.
Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.
Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.
“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.
“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”
“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.
“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.
Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.
Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan.
Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name.
He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.
“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.
“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.
“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.
“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.
“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.
“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.
You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air.
Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.
“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.
“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.
“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.
“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.
The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.
#quinn hughes x reader#quinn hughes fic#quinn hughes imagine#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#hockey imagine#vancouver canucks fic#vancouver canucks#hughes brothers#quinn hughes#elias pettersson
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「 In sickness and health 」
Summary: A small incident leads Thomas Shelby into a new battle with an invisible enemy
Word Count: 1.3K
Warnings: POTS symptoms (dizziness, struggle to breath, almost fainting, etc) + written through fever so there might be a few mistakes.
Note: A big thank you to @saltburnwhore for educating me on this topic, and I apologise in advance if it doesn't meet your expectations
It's been nearly 2 months now since the Garrison closed it's doors for renovation at Polly's request, and the loyal patrons were eager to return to their favourite pub.
That's why crowds now were packed infront of the entrance on the opening day, and once Thomas opened the newly polished doors, everyone poured inside barely leaving space for another person to set a foot. But that didn't stop them from enjoying themselves as the band John brought played loud music in celebration.
Harry struggled to keep up with the packed pub on his on, so without hesitation, Polly and y/n joined him behind the bar, pouring drinks and opening taps. And after a couple of hours, Harry shouted over the loud music "We ran out of whiskey"
Turning to y/n who was helping serve pints, Polly said "There's a new whisky delivery in the storage from last night, take the keys from Tommy and bring a couple of bottles, hurry!", as she took the glasses from her hands to continue serving the waiting customers.
Y/n didn't waste anytime, looking around the pub she spotted her boyfriend stepping out for a smoke away from the noise, "Tommy!" she called over, getting his attention as she made her way to his side. "I need the keys. Polly needs a couple of bottles, we're running low already" she explained as she held out her palm waiting for him to give her the keys.
Taking a look inside the crowded pub, Thomas turned to face her "A few bottles won't cut it..." he noted, as he took her hand in his, and led her to the back storage. With a twist of his keys he unlocked the door to where boxes of alcohol were stacked high amidst the leftover mess from the recent renovation.
"Polly said the delivery is from last night" y/n said as she eyed the room, "God! This place could use a through cleaning" she remarked, carefully picking her way around the bucket of paint, making sure not to knock it over.
Nodding in agreement, Tommy used his pocket knife and sliced through the top of several boxes, searching their content, "Aye, Arthur said he'll take care of it" he told her, as he cut through more boxes. A couple of minutes later Thomas announced "Found it!" as he held the bottles in his hand.
"Shall we take it all?" Y/n asked and Thomas shrugged, already carrying the heavy box in his arms "Better to have more than less, the night is still young" he said.
Giving him space to walk a head, y/n stepped back, unaware, her foot caught on a lengthy piece of wood making her stumble. Quickly, Thomas reached out to steady her "Careful!" he said, just as they both heard shattering.
The door knob...
Thomas sat the box down and walked over to the door, once he inspected the broken piece he realised that they were trapped,"Damn it" He cursed under his breath.
"I'm sorry Tommy..." y/n quickly apologised but Thomas shook his head "Not your fault sweetheart, fucking Arthur should've taken care of this mess ages ago" he sighed in frustration.
But y/n had other reasons that made her worry, placing a hand on her chest she felt her heart rate pick up, as she struggled to breath in the dusty and poorly ventilated place.
Before her legs give out, y/n reached for an old chair, and Thomas quickly noticed that something wasn't right, "Are you alright?" he asked, concern etched all over his face as he studied her distressed form.
"Just lightheaded" she tried to ressure him but thomas knew it was more than that. He wasn't blind after all...
Thomas had noticed the signs for a while: how she'd struggled to make it out of bed sometime, how shaky she'd be after having a drink of two, the continues dizziness and how her legs failed to carry her at times.
Y/n often blamed it on her cycle, other times she laughed it off, saying she couldn't drink like a Shelby, but Thomas wasn't fooled.
In an instance Thomas was before her, holding her hand in his, "Don't lie to me y/n, no more downplaying this" he said, worry evident in his deep blue eyes "Once we're out of here you're seeing a doctor" he continued but she cut him off, "It's nothing really" y/n insisted, with a weak smile but she knew he saw through her dismissal.
Closing her eyes in an attempt to think through the fog "POTS, It's... It's a disorder... I've had it since I could remember" she explained her condition, but the confusion written on his face told her that she needs to do better than that.
So for the next 10 minutes, she laid it all bare, she told him about the symptoms, the treatments that brought nothing but little relief to her daily pain. The man before her took it all in, his worry increasing with every new piece of information, it all made him feel like his hands were tied.
Running a hand down his face, Thomas couldn't help but feel fear grip him, because for the first time he felt powerless...
It wasn't a simple threat that he could shield her from with his fist or gun, the danger was invisible this time, beyond his ability to see or fight...it came from within her own body.
Noticing the sweat beads on her brows, as the heat rose in the cramped place, Thomas gently wiped it away with his palm. Cupping her face gently he said "Just breath for me, love, I'll get us out of here", Thomas felt like the words were for his own reassurance as much as for her.
On hurried steps, he started tearing through the mess, tossing and throwing anything that isn't useful out of his way, he rammed through the storage until he spotted an old axe, and without thinking twice Thomas graped it and marched towards the door.
Fueled by his fear for y/n, Thomas tore the strong door down to shreds, the wood didn't stand a chance against the relentless blows, until nothing was left of it but the lock dangling from the splinted frame.
"C'mon sweetheart" Thomas said dropping the axe, swiping her into his arms he rushed them towards the pub's back door, where Arthur met them halfway.
"Lovebirds, what took ya so lon-" Arthur started to say cheerfully but the words died on his lips once thomas suddenly snapped at him. "I'll fucking kill ya Arthur!" he shouted through gritted teeth making Arthur recoil in shook.
Seeing Y/n laying almost unconscious in his arms seemed to pour gasoline on Thomas's temper, as worry and fear ate him from the inside, his thoughts raced with different scenarios, each worse than the other.
Taking in the scene Ada quickly followed them with a cup of salted water in her hand, as Thomas swiftly carried the woman in his arms to the private booth. And once Thomas saw Ada hand y/n the cup he gave her a questioning look.
Meeting his gaze Ada saw the rare open concern in her brother's eyes,"She told me not too long ago... She didn't want to burden you", she admitted, answering his unasked question.
With a sigh, Thomas knelt down infront of y/n, noticing how the color started to return to her rosie cheeks brought relief to his worrying heart. Gently, he brushed the strands of hair clinging to her damp forehead and placed a tender kiss there.
"Never think like that again, we're in this together alright?" Thomas said, softly yet firmly "We will face it, just like we do all things" Thomas reassured her, his blue eyes peering into her weary ones before his lips met hers.
Earning a weak nod from her, y/n leaned into his embrace, taking comfort into his arms, she felt safe knowing that facing the challenges of this illness will be much easier with him by her side.
#cillian murphy#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby x reader#tommy shelby#peaky blinders#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby x y/n#thomas shelby imagine
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first strike
mark estapa x fem! reader
warnings?: cursing, one kiss, fluff
masterlist
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you sat anxiously at your vanity, teasing and touching your hair every minute until the hockey player texted you that he was in your driveway. when your phone lit up with the text your heart sank into your stomach.
“this is gonna be good.” you said to yourself, grabbing you wallet and heading out the front door. you opened the car door and got settled while you were greeted by the smiling brunette.
“you look great.” he smiles at you.
“thank you mark, you too.” you replied, his smile warming your heart. you and mark had been texting for a while. flirting, small talk, the whole shabang, but the two of you had never once hung out in real life, at least not alone. you’ve liked the boy for months and you’re finally on your first date with him.
“just so you know, i’m a great bowler.” he says, sparking an idea in your head. you had always loved to bowl with your family, and even won tournaments with them, so what if you could get this going a little quicker?
“oh i wish i was, i honestly suck.” you confess, totally lying out of your ass.
“hey no worries, i got you.” he says, ego booming through the roof of the car. the rest of the short drive was filled with your usual conversations, nothing out of the normal. you two walk into the bowling alley and make your way over to the counter.
“what’s your shoe size?” the woman asks the two of you.
“13 and she’s a?”
“6.” you smile.
“perfect, now let me ring you in,” she pauses, “your total is 24 even, are you splitting it?”
“no maam, im paying for it.” mark speaks up causing you to blush.
“thank you.” you whisper to him, his only reply being a smile. once you get to your lane you grab a 7 pound ball and he grabs a 12 pound.
“oh big and strong are we?” you laugh.
“what? oh this ball? if i had a 7 pound it would end up in the ceiling.” he laughs.
“woah okay mr macho.” you reply, giggling.
“okay i’m putting you as first, let me see what i’m working with here.” he says backing away and watching you bowl, purposefully shitty of course, but he has no idea. miraculously, you hit the two pins in the end.
“how’d i do?” you ask and he laughs.
“let me help you.” he says handing you the ball once it returned. you pick it up and you walk over to the lane, mark standing flush against your back. he grabs onto your wrist and lands his other hand on your waist.
“okay now bend your knees and lean forward. and don’t throw the ball, push it.” he say and you move together, picking up a spare.
“oh my gosh.” you say jumping and turning around as he smiles brightly at you.
“see it’s not so hard.” he says as you go sit down for his turn. he knocks 9 pins.
“damn look who’s winning.” you laugh and pick up your ball. it was show time. you walk up to the lane and send the ball effortlessly down the lane, knocking over 6 pins.
“see, i knew you could do it.”
“first to get a strike gets what?”
“a kiss.” he raises his brow.
“deal.” you reply and your heart sinks into your stomach. you couldn’t lie and say being around him didn’t make you nervous. a good nervous of course. you send the ball one more time hitting 2 more pins.
“your turn hot stuff.” you say patting him on the back.
“hot stuff?” he asks.
“mark im not blind, now go.” you laugh. much to your surprise he gets two gutter balls.
“you threw me off my game y/n.” he laughs sitting down next to you.
“i did no such thing.” you say getting up for your turn. as much as you wanted a strike, the idea made you nervous. you took a deep breath before walking up to the lane and sending the ball as fast as you could, knocking over all 10 pins. you turn around with wide eyes and jump for joy as he stands up and walks over to you, opening his arms to hug you.
“that was fucking awesome dude.” he says putting you down.
“it was pretty epic.” you laugh. once you’ve come back down you lock eyes with the tall boy.
“i was the first strike.” you say looking down at your feet.
“yep.” he replies, the building now feeling empty like it was no one but you two.
“hey look at me.” he says lifting your chin delicately with his hand.
“sorry i’m nervous.”
“why are you nervous?” he asks gently running his fingers down my arm.
“because you’re you. you’re tall, handsome….. let me not inflate your ego too much.” you laugh nervously.
“and you’re beautiful, smart, kind. i’ll inflate your ego any day.” he smiles, which you return as he finally closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours. your stomach filled with butterflies as you melted into the feeling of his hands around your waist onto the small of your back. once you separate all you can do is smile at him.
“let’s finish this game yeah?” he says.
“yeah.” you say quietly. you go sit down in your seat, over the moon about what just happened, realizing you’re gonna have to tell him you lied about being a bad bowler sooner or later. once you finished the game that you had barely won, you exit the bowling alley and walk back out to his car.
“mark, i have to tell you something.” you say.
“what’s up? everything alright?” he asks buckling his seatbelt.
“oh yes of course. i just had to tell you that i lied about being a bad bowler,” you sigh.
“why?”
“because i wanted you to show me how to bowl, i wanted to get the ball rolling, figuratively, between you and i.” you say embarrassing yourself, “i also didn’t wanna hurt your ego too quickly.”
“y/n it’s okay, you’ve hurt my ego a tiny bit now, but i like you anyway. i was fully planning on kissing you regardless of if you were good at bowling or not. at least you getting the first strike makes way more sense now.” he laughs, reassuring you.
“thank you mark, i like you too….. and i have for a while honestly, and besides all that, you’re a good bowling teacher.”
“am i actually?”
“yes, you did perfectly.” you laugh.
“ego has been boosted again.” he states, placing his hand lightly on your leg as you pulled out of the parking lot. once you arrive back at your house he pulls into your driveway and puts the car in park.
“thank you for tonight.” he says turning toward you.
“you too, i had so much fun.” you smile.
“see you tomorrow? lunch?”
“yeah sure, what time?”
“don’t know yet but i’ll text you when im on the way.”
“perfect.” you smile as he leans over to kiss you one more time.
“bye mark,” you smile placing a hand on his cheek once he backs away a few inches.
“bye y/n.”
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#mark estapa#mark estapa x reader#mark estapa fluff#umich imagine#umich hockey#turcs’ talk#i love him
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dark!rafe finds u sneaking into ur house at 2am and finds out u have been hanging around with the pogues and assumes that u fucked jj so he fucks the jj out of u ( u never even fucked jj ) 👏👏
Fucking Pogues.
word count — alottttt
Pairing: Dark Rafe Cameron x (female) Reader
▶️ This is dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.
(Give me more ideas guys aswell)
WARNINGS: Dark!Rafe, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, domestic violence, manipulation, heavy smut
SUMMARY: thinking ur smarter then rafe and then getting the shit fucked out of you.
AN: this is my second post and thank you to everyone that followed me and liked my first post I hope u enjoy this one, make sure u give me ur darkest ideas. Please, reblog and give me feedback.
18+ ONLY MINOR DNI!!
__
You quietly but sneakily entered your house, locking the door behind you. It was currently 2 am, and you had just driven home from the other side of the island because you had to sneak around to hang out with your friends pope,jj,Sarah,John b and kiara. Your boyfriend Rafe didn't like your pick of friends, often calling them ‘dirty ass pogues’ and claiming that they were all ‘trying to take you away from him,,’ and that fucking annoyed me because they are such a kind and chill group of people and they meant a lot to me.
Just because Rafe had some sort of rivalry with The Pogues didn't mean you had to, and to be honest, the reasons he has for disliking them are so childish; because of his ‘little problem’ with them, you were most of the time isolated. But Still, you wouldn't let Rafe take away your social life, so you would sometimes sneak out your window late at night, go to the cut, visit your friends, and come back home as if nothing happened.
He also accuses you of having a crush on jj and flirting with him which is totally stupid because you only see jj as a friend nothing more? You definitely were not going to cut all your friends off because Rafe told you to. It wasn't like you were going behind his back and cheating.
You always made sure you covered all of your tracks so u didn’t get caught. Knowing Rafe had your location at all times, you left your phone at home every time you snuck out. You would always make it back in two-three hours at the most just to be extra careful. You knew if Rafe found out about you sneaking around, he would be fucking furious; you had been disobeying him for months and lying straight to his face.
As you crept up your stairs, trying to be as silent as you could, you couldn't help but laugh and giggle for some reason; even though you hated to admit it, you and Rafe never did anything fun together. I guess, you two had ‘fun’ in his way, like going to party’s,golfing,doing drugs, ‘Rafe stuff,’ but you two would never do anything you wanted to do, and with The Pogues, it was the opposite; you got to get messy stuff, get absolutely wasted on the beach, surfing together and even do girly things like trying new styles on Sarah or kiara’s hair or do eachothers makeup, just things that would be impossible to do with rafe. It was a weight of my shoulders to finally do something fun that you actually loved.
You slowly and gently opened your bedroom door, which was pitch black; you had turned all your lights out before you left; you felt around on the wall for the light switch, flipping it upwards. The lights blinded you for a minute or two, but you jumped when you saw the tall built figure on your chair that u have in the corner of your room. When your eyes finally adjusted to the really bright lights, it was 100% worse than what you could’ve ever imagined.
Rafe was sitting on your white fluffy chair that he had bought you, staring directly into your soul; his face was dull but had a spark of anger in it, which was horrifying.
You stood there as frozen as a statue not knowing what to do, not able to break the tense eye contact or move.
“Where the fuck have you been?” Rafe asked, breaking the silence; his voice was deep as fuck, empty of emotion as he got comfy on your chair, manspreading waiting for you to explain yourself
You tried to speak but nothing was coming out, your throat felt dry, you felt like u couldn’t breath and it was starting to get really hot all of a sudden, you were speechless.
“Don’t make me repeat myself y/n,” Rafe said smirking and talking loud and clear waiting for you to speak once again; he was allowing you to come clean and tell the truth.
“I was…” you blinked a couple of tears back. “I was with the Pogues but I swear we wasn’t doing anything stupid or getting in trouble we were just hanging out.” you looked up and then back at him trying to ignore the nervousness running through your body, fidgeting with your hands waiting for his response.
Rafe smirk immediately dropped into the most serious face you’ve ever seen. Did this anger him?
“What have I told u about those dirty ass Pogues y/n.” Rafe shouted standing up out of the chair walking towards you slowly, looking at your shoes thinking about what he said. “U have some sort of obsession with these Pogues” he said pissed off, awaiting a response.
“No I don’t there just my frie-”you said trying to speak but rafe cut you off, his head tilting slightly and his eyes narrowing like he had just figured out something.
He began walking closer to u until u was pinned against the wall.
“Yeah you do have an obsession with them and especially with jj ur fucking him aren’t you?” Rafe questioned you gripping you by your neck as he combs his finger through his hair.
“No rafe what the fuck are u crazy no I’m not he’s just my friend!”You say accidentally raising your voice at him, you
Realised you shouted at him and looked back down at your shoes.
“Lower ur tone when u fucking speak to me!”rafe yells back at me a bit walking over to the bed and sitting down on it
“I didn’t mean to raise my voice and we were just hanging out, and I'm sorry; I know I should have-” You were just blurting out anything that came to mind, trying to improve this situation.
“Come here.” Your boyfriend mumbled, cutting you off; his voice was low,demanding and shaky.
“N-no”I say shaking my head to nervous to go near him right now
“Ok,” he shakes his head before running his hand through his hair again and saying something under his breath that you didn't quite catch.
But before I know it rafe’s charging towards me angrily,I try make a run for it out the bedroom door but I felt a handful of my hair being pulled into a tight grip.I try to fight him off but he’s to strong,he bends me over the bed and pulled my shorts down revealing my black lace thong.
if you make any noise…” he paused just for a second,giving a hard smack to your ass. “I'll kick your fucking teeth in.” he threatened, voice still shaking. “Do u understand me?”
I nod as best as I could considering my heads shove into one of the pillows.Then i hear the noises of his belt unbuckling and his pants falling down.
“Good girl”he says giving another hard slap to my ass before moving my lace thong to the side lining up his dick with my entrance
“rafey can u go slow.” you moan as he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds, feeling how wet you are. “Please.” you shudder as he pushes against your entrance, his cock easily entering you with how wet you are.
“ready?” rafe hums, and before you can register his question, his thrusts suddenly deepening and quickening, pounding into you while pulling you back onto his cock with his one hand.
“oh fuck!” you shout out, not caring who in the area is going to hear you screaming.
Rafe smacks his hand over your mouth turning ur loud moans into muffles.
“Did I say u could make a noise u stupid slut?”he questions knowing u can’t answer him
I just shake my head no quickly and he continues to pound in me 100x faster than he was before taking his hand off my mouth and rapidly rubbing my clit with it instead
“Whose pussy is this?”he questioned pounding faster into ur tight little pussy knowing u was close to cumming
“Y-yours daddy f-fuck” you said messing up ur words from how much pleasure was going through ur body
“you gonna cum for me?” rafe questions, his fingers still rapidly rubbing over your clit. you feel his cock swelling inside of you and know he’s not too far away himself.
“Y-yes fuck I-I’m cummingggg” you scream out squirting all over his dick and hand
He continues to chase his nut since he was almost there, overstimulating you in the process until u feel warm liquid release into you.
U roll over onto ur back and lay there tired as fuck ur eyes shutting by the minute and rafe lays ontop of you
“Your mine,not jj’s not anyone else’s.mine and if you speak to jj ever again I’ll kill u and him got it?” He questions you
“Yeah I understandddd” is half asleep
“Atta girl” was the last thing y/n heard from rafe before she fell into a deep sleep for the night
Whoever requested this lemme know if I did I good job and if I could improve anything let me know pookies x💙
#rafe angst#outerbanks rafe#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#rafe smut#rafe obx#rafe cameron#rafe fic#toxic relationship#rafe x you#abusiveboyfriend#rafe fanfiction#toxic love#rafe imagine#rafe x reader#obx fanfiction#obx cast#rafeissoyummy#rafeswifeee#smut#phsycoticbf#rafecameronissoyummyiwannaeathim
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