#MY EYES ARE ITCHY AF | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

asonofpeter · 8 months

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Pairing: Jaime Reyes x F!Reader

Summary: After the events of everything, you and Jaime can finally be alone...

Warnings: SMUT (18+ ONLY), fingering, oral fem receiving, penetrative sex, Blue Beetle spoilers?

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Final part! Took me a while but I did it! Short and sweet. This shit got me horny af so it's pretty good hehe. Enjoy!

My work shall also not be translanted, copied or reposted!

“This thing is itchy,” Jaime sighed as he shifted in his seat. “Fuck, can’t reach it,” he dropped his arm.

“I got you,” you reassured, arm reaching around his back as you lightly grazed his skin, trying to navigate where he was itchy based on his features.

“No, no, a little to the right,” he winced before he relaxed. “Right there,” he closed his eyes in relief. “Thank you, mi amor,” he squeezed your hand.

You smiled and for the next few minutes, you thought he was good until he started again.

“Jesus,” he stood up, walked to his room and he threw his shirt over his head.

“Still?”

“It’s worse,” he huffed out. “It’s everywhere now,” he glanced in the mirror.

“Just tell me where,” you walked up beside him.

“Along the edges, where it meets,” he said and you complied.

“Thank you,” he exhaled, turning around to kiss your temple.

Your breath hitched when you opened your eyes to be faced with your shirtless boyfriend.

“Hmm,” you made a noise, reaching your hand up to brush his skin. “Been a while since I’ve seen you like this,” you said.

“Oh, yeah,” he smiled, glancing at where you were touching him.

“We’re home alone,” you added.

With Rocio and Nana shopping at the mall, Millie at work, and Rudy getting some parts for his new truck, you and Jaime were finally alone.

“I bought condoms the other day,” he said and you looked up at him.

“Shut the door,” was all you said.

Jaime nodded and he ran toward it before you both ran to each other, your hands quickly finding their way to his hair and his to your waist.

You were obsessed with how he felt.

“I missed you,” Jaime sighed, forehead pressed against yours.

“Me too,” you exhaled, pressing your lips against his.

Everything grew heated, the intense longing you felt for one another finally pouring over as you both undressed each other.

You sucked in a breath when his hand pinched your nipple, his other hand squeezing your ass, kneading the soft flesh. You pressed your body against him and he let go of you, hands touching your hips as he guided you on his bed.

“You are so gorgeous,” he shook his head in disbelief, gaze raking over your body as you rested on your elbows, lip pulling between your teeth, your face heating up under his stare. “I love you so much,” he leaned down and kissed you, his hand slowly sliding up your thigh.

“Jaime,” you called his name softly, resting your head against the pillow, spreading your legs, and welcoming his hand between them. “I love you,” you said before your breath hitched, his fingers gliding along your folds.

You felt your back arch as he circled his thumb around your clit, your lips becoming wetter, and soon you felt his middle finger go inside you.

He moaned at the feeling and you could only picture how good it would feel when he was finally inside you.

“Oh my god, Jaime,” you sighed, hips beginning to move against his palm before he placed another finger inside you, your back arching in the process.

You felt that pressure build and you knew you were close. Embarrisanly way too soon for what it normally took, but hey, it had been too damn long.

“C’mon, mi amor, you got it,” he encouraged, your nails raking down his arm as you gripped onto his wrist. Your hips ground against his fingers, your body withering beneath him as the pleasure became overbearing.

“Jaime,” you moaned, thighs tightening around his hand when his finger stroked over that rough spot as you finally reached your orgasm. “Oh, fuck,” you cried, voice breathless.

You slowly opened your eyes to gaze at him before you glanced down, your hands still wrapped around his wrist. You relaxed, hands drawing up his arm and over his chest. You maneuvered yourself so he settled between your legs.

“So good, baby,” he kissed your cheek before he placed one on your lips.

“Mhmm, Jaime,” you breathed, your touch dragging out over his shoulders and down his back.

He smiled above you, his head dipping down as he pressed his lips along your jaw, trailing down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. He hummed, wrapping his lips around your sensitive peaks, your back arching as he kneaded your flesh. He took his time in exploring your body, savoring each area of skin, each sound escaping your beautiful lips, and each and every feel of you.

“You are so beautiful,” he kissed down your stomach, hands tracing every curve of your body, squeezing his favorite parts right as he arrived at where you wanted him the most. “So delicate,” he shook his head as he situated himself between your thighs, his strong hands pulling them apart further. “All mine,” he breathed before he licked a long stripe along your pussy, your back curving at his touch.

You gasped, hands reaching out to clutch the sheets, your thighs instinctively squeezing around his head and he welcomed in by moving your legs over his shoulders. You let out a trail of moans, your fingers finding their way to his soft brown curls, pushing him further against your core.

His tongue traced a small pattern on your clit, his lips wrapped plumply around the bud as he sucked. He knew you were sensitive, his eyes opening to catch your uncontrolled body as you struggled to feel the pleasure you were longing for. He placed his hands on your hips, holding you down as he continued.

You began to move your hips, but his grip stopped you and you whined at the lack of control. You heard him chuckle against you and that only served as another gasp of pleasure leaving you. You missed having him between your legs and seeing him as he ate you out. Sometimes it felt like he loved it more than you.

“I’m gonna-,” you lifted your head, lightening the pressure on his head as you felt your second orgasm approach. “Fuck, Jaime,” you moaned, falling back on the bed as you came undone.

You caught your breath, eyes dazed as you stared at the ceiling. You felt smooches on your body, moving up before your boyfriend came into view.

“I really missed that,” you said, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“It’s been too long,” he cupped your face, reaching down to kiss you.

You thought about it, aware that it’s been more than a few months. Probably the day he left for his final year at Gotham University.

“It has,” you agreed, getting up and moving him onto his back before you straddled him. His underwear is the only thing blocking you. You shifted, grinding slightly on him and you grinned when you felt him beneath you. “I definitely missed this,” you smirked, dipping your hand in his underwear and wrapping your hand around his length.

“Mi amor,” he closed his eyes and you licked your lips deviously.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you inside me again,” you reached over to his nightstand where you knew the condoms were, and pulled one out, not ripping your attention away from him as you lazily pumped him. “All those lonely nights I wished you were fucking me, whispering my name in my ear,” you glanced down at your work, his precum dripping down your hand.

You stared back at Jaime, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he tried to keep focus, beads of sweat forming on his skin and you wondered how his senses had changed ever since Khadji-Da was introduced.

“You say the right things,” he sat up, grabbing your head and pressing his lips against yours, moving you to your back in the process. “Always so perfect for me,” he said against your lips, his hips lining up with yours and soon he sank into you, your walls wrapping around him.

“Oh,” you both sucked in a breath when he stilled inside you.

“Please,” you furrowed your brows. “Can we savor this?” you asked, reaching up to press your forehead against his.

“Mhmm,” he nodded, gulping.

You wrapped your legs around him, hands coming up to touch his biceps and you moved to hide your face in his neck, inhaling his wonderful scent.

After a beat, he began to rock his hips, your tightness sucking him back in with each thrust. You dragged your nails down his muscles, everything sensitive and you felt the way your walls craved the feel of his cock, the sensation traveling all the way back to your bud, causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head.

“I’m not gonna last much longer,” you moaned, clutching onto him.

“Neither am I,” he groaned, lips pressing against your ear.

“Fuck,” you came first with him following right after.

He rolled off you, disposing of the condom before he welcomed you to cuddle against him.

“I think it’s time we start thinking of getting our own apartment,” you said after a beat of silence.

“I agree,” he brushed your arm with his hand, rolling to his side to see your face.

You smiled, puckering your lips and he grinned as he reached down to kiss you. Things were normal again but you both knew one thing, no matter what you’d be where the other goes…

Reblogs are the best!

#jaime reyes x reader #jaime reyes #jaime reyes imagine #jaime reyes smut #jaime reyes x you #jaime reyes fanfiction #jaime reyes x y/n #xolo maridueña #blue beetle

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somnambulic-thing · 8 months

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This fic is part II of my come as you are universe but can be read as a standalone.

Series Masterlist

bendy Eddie Munson x gn!Reader with vagina&boobs, we're early 20s, E 18+ smut smut smut

Words: 3.3k

|new relationship/former best friends, fluff, pining, smut, fingering, piv, Eddie gives himself head for you, cuddling, intimacy af, silly and a little cheesy|

A/N: I kinda fell in love with those two and have two more parts partly written already. Some fics are very fun to do research for, this is one of those. If you feel like any acts in this fic are unrealistic: I don't care.

Big thanks to my cheerleaders @bettyfrommars and R<3 for the help with that story.

If you want to be tagged for the next part, reblog this post and tag it with #somnatags1 and I put you on the list

Comments and reblogs are so appreciated you have no idea.

“Eddie?”

“Mhh?”

Slouched against the wall behind his bed, Eddie doesn’t look up from the guitar in his lap. He’s dressed in nothing than grey boxers and a sun-bleached shirt that misses sleeves and most of the sides. You could fit your head in there easily, breathe him in, graze your teeth lightly over his nipple, flick it with your tongue. Your skin would prickle with anticipation of the reward you would get for your teasing. When you were lucky he would let out one of those deep, shaky hums. Your forehead pressed against his sternum you would feel the fine vibration through his skin—

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he mumbles, busy fingers turning the keys to loosen the strings he’s about to exchange for new ones, always two at a time. He could do this in his sleep, so you assume the lack of response means he’s mulling over the setlist for tomorrow night again. You never knew when the right guy with the right connections would be in the crowd after all.

You’re soaked through your underwear.

Seeing Eddie like this, completely immersed in his element and lost to the world, was already an infallible way to make you lose your mind. But you have been mulling something over as well as you watched him the past twenty minutes and the thought had you softly grinding against the cushion of the armchair. Wouldn’t be a surprise if you left a damp spot behind.

“Did you ever try to blow yourself?”

The unplugged guitar cries a discordant noise as his fingers twitch and slip. His head shoots up, eyes wide and dark, voice a high rasp. Like something itchy got stuck in his throat.

“W-what?”

The thought wasn’t new. In fact, it hadn’t been a full week after Eddie and you had finally and officially deepened your years-long relationship from friends to lovers when the thought came to you for the first time. In the days prior, there had been many thoughts, many fantasies. Some whispered against sweaty skin in gentle request, others moaned in urgent demand. Every free minute spent exploring each other’s bodies in new and thrilling ways, tangled together in one sticky writhing mess.

It had just been a blip - the thought - just a flicker in your mind.

Eddie had told you about his day. Standing in the middle of his room, bend over, hugging the back of his tights and his chest pressed almost flush against them. It was casual. No strain. Just Eddie being Eddie.

And suddenly… oh… oh!

He had unbent himself, cheeks a pretty pink from dangling upside down and pulled his shirt over his head. “Oh, and I missed you the whole fucking time,” he said softly, grinning at you out of a cloud of messy hair. The thought was gone forgotten obliterated when he climbed into the bed with you and straddled your hips.

But a seed had been planted and the soil was more than fertile.

The man couldn’t keep still; was always climbing things, spending ages comfortably squatting in one place, or bent like a pretzel wherever he settled down for more than five minutes. With each display of his ridiculous flexibility, the thought took root. Fuck by fuck, restraint and inhibition dissolved, giving way to trust and desire, nurturing that young, delicate sprout.

What it had grown into over the past months had finally borne fruit; plump and juicy and ready for harvest. The curiosity was killing you. You had to pluck it right now.

“Did you ever try to suck your cock?”

“Jesus,” he huffs and runs both hands through his hair, wavy strands wildly sticking out from between his fingers as he holds on to his roots. His pointy elbows press together in front of his face, obstructing the view you had daydreamed about so many times.

Eddie Munson has a busted-face you can usually spot from five miles away. You’re almost sure that’s what he’s trying to hide from you. There’s a sudden abundance of saliva in your mouth and you swallow hard to keep from drowning.

“You have, haven’t you?”

“Uhm, I—“ he stretches the vowel like a rubber band. “You know…”

“Ed, it’s me.”

He shifts one arm to the side and peeks out at you. “Yes,” he says on a massive exhale as if confessing a sin that had weighed on him for centuries. “Yeah, I’ve tried.”

“And?”

“A-and?”

You lean forward on the chair. The motion spreads the wetness in your underwear. “Can you do it?”

“Jesus…”

“Hey,” you say softly, “are you ashamed?”

It wouldn’t be the first time, not for either of you. Sometimes intimacy was just scary with the possibility of rejection or worse, ridicule, while all the sensitive bits lay bare and on display. But it’s the first time you had seen him at such a loss for words.

“I’m not… ashamed,“ he finally drops his hands to the mattress with a stereo thump. His face is flushed a bright red that’s spreading down his neck; he looks like he’s catching fire from the inside.

“Because there’s no reason for that. You know that, right?”

“Right.”

“I’m just curious.”

“Mhhh,” he hums and his gaze drifts away from your face to the ceiling above your head.

“Babe, do you want me to drop it?”

“Nope.” The corners of his mouth twitch and while it’s not a full smile, there’s a hint of dimples. He looks a little dazed and his voice sounds suitably viscous. “Don’t want you to drop it.”

He takes the guitar in his lap by the neck and bends over the side of the bed to lean it against the nightstand. When he shifts back, he wiggles his hips and slides a little further down the wall. “Definitely don’t want you to drop it,” he says and grabs his hard cock through the fabric of his boxers, hips twitching up at the touch.

It’s a sight you’ll never get used to; Eddie being flustered and hard for you. The squeeze of your thighs is ridiculously insufficient against the throbbing in your cunt. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth.

It’s your turn to be speechless.

Eddie grins, the tip of his tongue poking out between curled lips. He’s stroking himself lazily. “You can’t just say shit like that without a warning. I swear you cut off the blood flow to my brain for a few seconds.”

“Was just a question. I had to start somewhere.”

He laughs, deep and sultry. “Just a question— Sweetheart, you know how my imagination runs away with me.”

“Where did it go?”

“Uhm, shit.” He swallows and the hand on his cock stops moving. You see the muscles in his belly tense. “Making myself come on my face for you… and in my mouth.”

You slide your hand between your thighs with sudden urgency, moaning as your fingers press against your clit.

“Fuck,” Eddie moans too. “You like that?”

“Oh god, yes!”

“Come here,” he says and holds both arms out for you.

You move so fast you almost stumble. Eddie pulls you into his lap as soon as his hands can reach you, greedy and excited, just like his tongue when it slips past your lips. Grinding your crotch against his hard length, you suck the moan from his mouth. You swear you can taste it, sweet and juicy and dripping from your chin.

“So, you can do it?” you ask and pull his head back by his hair to access his neck, leaving him his mouth to talk for now. He groans and digs his fingers into your hips as you softly run your teeth over his skin in search of a spot to sink them into.

“Yeah, like, a little. Not all the way, fuck… Not… not even like half the way but— fuck, baby.” Eddie’s nails dig into your back when you bite him and his thighs tremble beneath you. “Shiiit the way this is turning you on, don’t want you to be disappointed.”

You sit up, confused. “Why would I be disappointed?”

“It’s been a while and I have no idea if I still can do it.”

“Eddie, listen,” you cradle his face in your hands and smooth your thumbs over his cheekbones. It does the trick to ease the tension from his worried brows but there’s still some flickering in those big brown eyes.

“M’ listening.”

“I won’t be disappointed.”

You realize how hard he’s holding on to you when his vice grip on your left hip vanishes. His hand slides between your thighs, fingers trembling ever so slightly and you can’t but grind down when he presses two firmly against your cunt.

His eyes roll up before they find you again under heavy lids. “You say that now, but you’re soaking my dick through several layers of fabric here, sweetheart—“

You shut him up with a kiss, smiling against his lips as the initial noise of protest turns into an avid sigh. You sneak your fingers into his hair to scratch his scalp with practised finesse and Eddie goes boneless. He’s holding onto the back of your shirt with both fists and just melts into you.

“Better?” you ask drawing back to see his face. His expression is soft, cheeks flushed and he bites his lower lip and nods. “Good. M’ just going to suck you off myself when you can’t do it, no big deal.”

“Hey!” he complains. “That’s not what you called him the last time. Or the time before that. Or— hnng ahh.“

You reached down into his boxers to grab him, sliding your thumb back and forth over the tip. “Silly man.”

“Uh-hnn, but it always pays off.” He closes his eyes, enjoying your lazy strokes for a while before he looks at you again. “So, uh… you want me to try it?”

“You wanna try it now?”

“I’m getting kinda desperate here.”

“I don’t want you to hurt yourself in a horny hurry. You have a show tomorrow.”

He laughs and places a kiss on your cheek. “I’m not going to force it,” he says and breaks out into a wicked grin. “I heard I’m getting my dick sucked either way.”

You look at each other for a moment, both grinning and giddy. “Alright,” you say and then you both scramble to take your clothes off.

It’s a quick and silly affair with garments flying through the room left and right, with giggles and stolen kisses. Eddie’s hand slips between your legs. Swift fingers part your lips and rub soft circles around your clit. You slump against his shoulder and he laughs darkly.

“Knew I’m not the only one who’s desperate here,” he says and sinks two fingers into you. “You’re going to drown us. Jesus. Let me take care of you first. M’ dying to taste you.”

“Oh!”

Eddie pulls up his brows. “Oh?”

You put your palms on his chest—

“What are you doing?”

— and push him down on his back. “M’ taking a seat,” you say, straddling his hips, hovering.

“O-okay.”

“You said you want to taste me—“ Reaching down, you line up his cock.

“Yeah, but why— what— fuuuck,” he groans as you sink down on him slowly. You shiver and moan with every inch that stretches you gloriously, not taking your eyes off Eddie’s ecstatic face.

“Fuck! So good…” He grits out when you’re fully seated. “I’m so confused.”

Wiggling your hips, you lean down to rub your nose against Eddie’s. “I’m making sure you can taste me—“

“Jesus Christ!”

“Got it?”

Eddie wraps his arms around you and pulls you flush against him. You can feel his stomach tense and his cock twitch inside you. His voice is whiny and when he speaks it sounds like one long word. “Don’t you move or it’s fucking over in two seconds Jesus you’re killing me you are going to be my demise holy fuck.”

“Take a breath, babe.” You chuckle against his neck. “Hmm, you feel so goo—“

“Shut up, demon.”

You press your lips together to keep from laughing. Eddie is holding you tight, breath deep and heavy, in an effort to calm himself down. It takes all of your willpower to not stick your tongue out to taste his neck, not to tell him how full and complete you feel with him inside of you. He twitches again and you can’t keep in a moan.

“Oh god,” he laughs, strained and raspy. “I’m not strong enough for this.”

“Shall I dismount?”

“Not yet.”

He kisses your temple, smoothes his hands over your back up and down and up again and he’s warm and now slightly sweaty and he smells like tea tree shampoo and old spice and the incense he keeps in stock just for you but secretly burns when he’s by himself as well.

“I love you,” he whispers into your hair.

You lift your head and find the softest of smiles and you have to kiss it and kiss it and kiss it again.

“Love you too, Munson.”

He hums and kisses you once more. “Get off now. Before I’m going to fucking explode.”

“So,” you ask while you slowly lift off of him, “how is this going to work?”

Eddie pats the bed next to him. “Lay down.”

While you settle down next to him on your side with your head propped up on your palm, Eddie pulls his knees to his chest.

“Oh,” you say, a wave of heat rising up in your chest. “You’re getting your cute little ass into the air?”

He rolls his eyes and turns his face to the ceiling. “Gravity helps, okay?”

“I’m not complaining.”

He lifts his knees to gain momentum and swings his hip up into the air. You follow every movement with your eyes. The way his back arches and the skin of his tummy scrunches together in soft wrinkles. His hands move to his back to keep him steady and he takes a moment to find balance.

“You ok?”

“Uh-hm,” he huffs and glances over to you. “Taking it slowly.”

The excitement settles hot in your chest, and you’re breathing faster. You slide your hand down and between your legs, palming your pussy. Eddie picks up on the motion and looks away with a groan, staring at his flushed, swollen cock hanging right above his face, still glistening wet with your slick. He groans again and closes his eyes.

“It’s so pretty, isn’t it?” your sigh and press a finger against your clit.

Eddie hums and moves, lowering his hips closer to his face.

“Can I help?”

“Nope,” he pops the p and shakes his head, eyes still closed and lowers his hips again. There’s maybe a hand width left between his face and the tip of his cock. You start circling your clit slowly, moan softly as warmth builds up in your pelvis.

“Feels good?” he asks and the distance shrinks again.

“Really good. The visuals help. You should give it a try.”

He chuckles. “Am I close?”

“Eddie, open your eyes.”

He not only opens his eyes, but stares mesmerized at his erection. “Good news,” he groans and you’re stomach starts fluttering like a swarm of bats.

“Oh god,” you breathe out and speed up your fingers. “You sure?”

He lowers himself again, now so close. “You have a good view? Need to make any adjustments?”

You quickly shuffle around, rest your head lower and put your hand back between your thighs. “I’m good.”

Eddie shifts his eyes over to you and takes a deep breath before he looks back. “Fucking hell,” he mumbles and then he sticks out his tongue and gives the underside of the tip a lick.

“Eddie,” you moan, hips twitching against your fingers as he does it again. “You’re gorgeous, so gorgeous…”

“Shiiit,” he breathes out and lowers his hips a little more, reaching the rim of his tip now. And he gives it a swirl, moaning deeply.

“Feels good?” you ask, trying to mimic with your fingers on your clit what Eddie’s tongue does to his cock.

“Yeah,” he breathes out harshly. “I can fucking taste you, t’s driving me insane.”

“Can you give it a kiss for me?”

“Baby,” he whines and shuffles his shoulders, gives himself another lick and then presses his full soft lips against the swollen tip of his cock. “

“You look so good,” you moan and quickly dip a finger into your hole, before you press down firmly on your clit. “Can you make yourself come for me, Eddie?”

“Demon,” he huffs and shuffles again. His hips lift up for a moment. When he lowers them down again you gasp, electricity surging through you as he slowly sucks most of the tip into his mouth. His cheeks hollow slightly and the tip of his tongue pokes out, sliding back and forth over the sensitive skin. You sink your fingers into your clenching cunt and press your palm to your clit, moaning loudly in unison with Eddie.

“God I love your mouth so much, how it makes you feel good—“

“Close—“ he huffs and sucks the whole tip in this time. The way his lips stretch around it, how eagerly his tongue tries to reach as far as it can. You can hear in the noises he makes that he’s almost there. Your hand stills. You’re mesmerized. You don’t want to blink, don’t want to miss one second of this spectacle. Eddie is trembling with strain and lust. It’s obscene.

“Come on, Eddie. Suck that big cock with your pretty mouth for me. Come for me.”

And with a yelp, Eddie comes just like you demanded. His tip slips from his mouth as his back straightens slightly and he digs his hands in to keep steady. His release comes in hard spasms that make his cock twitch and bop and his balls pump his cum all over his face. Eyes shut tight, mouth wide open and panting and he sticks his tongue out to get a taste of himself. You shower him with praises, you’re ecstatic and a little dizzy.

His cock is still twitching when Eddie let’s go and his legs drop back to the mattress. When he tries to open his eyes, they roll up and shut again. His hand comes up and searches for you. You intertwine your fingers with his and he pulls you down.

“Kiss me,” he demands with raspy shallow breaths.

You taste the both of you on his tongue, tangy and salty and sweet and he grins against your mouth when the sensation makes you whimper.

“As good as imagined?” he asks and nibbles on your bottom lip.

“You kidding me? This was so much better. I could cry.”

And sure enough, when he opens his eyes to look at you, he finds your eyes wet with tears. A satisfied grin spreads over his face. He turns to his side and pulls you against his chest. You breathe him in, feel a hum vibrating through his chest.

“What about you?” you ask.

“Oh, I’m spectacular, sweetheart.” He looks down and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Blissed out and covered in cum. Let’s do it again tomorrow.”

You grunt a laugh. “Did I awaken a monster?”

“Yepp, gonna join the circus now.”

“Bendy bastard,” you chuckle and push yourself up to face him. His eyes are soft and so is his smile. He looks completely spent. You kiss him again, slide your tongue over his lower lip right to the corner and from there up his cheek.

With his eyes closed Eddie clears his throat. “Uh, are you licking my cum from my face?”

You answer with a hum and a lick of your lips when he peeks at you with one eye. You feel his cock twitch against your thigh.

He throws his head back and groans, then pushes you to your back.

“Wha—“

“Gonna have to fuck you now,” he says like you’re a bit slow and lowers himself between your legs, sinking his teeth into your thigh. “Starting with the feast I was denied earlier. Too bad you can’t reach the table.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #my writing #Eddie Munson smut #my fic

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deaddovedecadence · 4 months

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(Guess which fucker is suffering from his uterus again? ME! Bevcucase I am suffering you get to hear how I think each member of the batfam (sibs only cause im mad at bruce rn for something he did in another story)would deal with you aggressively swearing at the Universe)

*Transmasc Reader on their period headcanons*

Dick Grayson

“I am going to stab a motherfucker in the throat and sacrifice them to the sun god if means he’ll end my pain”

surprised af, looks at you like you’re crazy

mildy concerned that you’re muttering under your breath swearing vengeance at the universe for giving you a period (apparently the uterus thing is fine but the period thing isn’t?)

Eventually asks what’s wrong and when you tell him that everything hurts, he’s very much going ooh and calling up babs to ask for some help with managing your pain. Once that’s happened he takes you to his room because his mattress is heated and wraps himself around you for a nap

Jason Todd

“If one more person tests me I’m telling Damian that they pissed me off”

He’s surprised with the viciousness of your throat and then pissed when he realizes that you have his favorite hoodie

you have to give him all the puppy eyes in the world to convince him that you need it and it smells like him and that makes it safe.

He understands better then a lot of people because his working girls complain to him when they see him.

helps your make even more creative threats because it’s funny to watch the horror on dick’s face when he hears them.

Cassandra Cain

“I’m going to rip out my uterus and feed it to the ground”

Dies laughing to herself at the absolute violence you threaten yourself with too make the pain stop then scolds you for threatening to hurt yourself

you explain to her that you aren’t actually going to hurt yourself and that you’re just in pain and severely dysphoric.

To combat this, Cass calls you brother (well signs it aggressively) while she cuddles with you in Dick’s bed (it’s the best bed okay!)

Tim Drake

“I hate my everyone and everything”

Finds you crying, and swearing at your body in front of the mirror. Immediately goes into damage control mode, bundling you away from the mirror and calling bart, because Bart’’s also trans and ergo he might know how to help with your freak out.

Bart has to stop Tim from freaking out and very patiently explains to him that sometimes bouts of dysphoria happen and there is nothing that anyone can do about them. Tim ends up asking again if you want to start t and when you say no, he just sits with you on the ground while you come back to yourself

Duke Thomas

“Fuck these motherfucking cramps,”

As the only other trans person in the manor (though Duke is agender to your transmasc) you feel a special kind of bond with him. He makes you feel comfortable and safe when your skin is itchy and all you want to do is explode

Laughs at you swearing at your cramps, and offers you some aleve and a heat pad. The two of you watch an anime together and argue about ship wars. It’s great!

Damian Al-Ghul Wayne

“I am going to rip out the universe’s entrails and give them to damian as a gift”*

Thinks that it’s perfectly reasonable to be angry at your body for failing you.

Makes you spar to get all of the anger that lives inside of you out. It’s very funny to watch the two of you. scream in different languages as you attempt to beat dummies into a pulp

He of everyone understands that it’s hard to keep control of anger and keeps you start to notice when your hold on it is fraying

*(the line that inspired everything)

258 notes · View notes

bbsantc · 8 months

Text

my favorite bts fics so far (maknae!line + ot7)

hello lovely readers, i hope all of you are doing great. i really want to share the amazing work and talent that many authors have on this app. as a literature fan and hopeless romantic myself, i made sure to pick out all the fics that i think are beautiful and amazing :) this post includes the maknae line + ot7 fics. i also made a hyung line fic rec post if you want to check it out here heheh :p

disclaimers!!!!:

some of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni), or some heavy themes

this is a pretty long post lmao

all pictures are from pinterest!

once again this is the key for the fics :)

fluff- ♾️

angst- Ω

smut- ☻

crack/humor- ☼

i would sell my liver to read this again for the first time- ¶

Park Jimin

series:

The Promised Iris- @akinnie75 ♾️Ω

''Pair: Jimin x Reader

Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slight Angst, Slow Burn, Fantasy, Soulmate AU

Word Count: 20k

Summary: During one rainy summer day at the park, a stranger name Jimin suddenly confesses that he’s in love with you. At first, you thought that Jimin was a stalker, but it turns out that there’s something he’s hiding from you.''

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oneshots:

balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n - @jungshookz ♾️☼ (there are more drabbles for this oneshot lolz)

''pairing: park jimin x reader

genre: balletteacher!jimin x ballerina!y/n au, fluff!!!! the fluffiest fluff!!! idk jimin just really cares about y/n okAY

wordcount: 2.5k''

him after all - @mercurygguk ♾️Ω☻

''➵ summary; a guy you’ve never met before scoops in and saves you from a very embarrassing situation and you can’t help but notice how cute he is.

pairing; jimin x f. reader final word count; 17,176 (sorry y’all) rating; 18+ content; strangers to lovers au, fluff/angst/smut, infidelity, multiple appearances from jjk, oc’s boyfriend being nasty and stupid af''

lover to lean on - @sketchguk ♾️Ω☻

''pairing: neighbor!jimin x florist!reader

➳ genre: neighbor AU, flower shop AU, smut, fluff, angst

➳ wc: 20k

➳ synopsis: for months, you can hear your no face neighbor and his ‘girlfriend’ singing and dancing and laughing and falling in love. above all, you can hear their bed banging against your shared wall, and they won’t ever let you sleep. you’d much rather stay up at night worrying about your own problems, like the weight of an unrequited crush, so of course you’re bitterly single. but one day, the apartment is radio silent. and one day slowly turns into one week and then into an immeasurable amount of time since you’ve heard his laugh. so on valentine’s day, when you’re missing it the most, you beg your neighbor to open up to you with cookies in one hand and two broken hearts in the other''

beneath the water - @jungshookz ♾️Ω ☻ ☼¶

''→ pairing: park jimin x reader

→ genre: mermaid!au/fantasy!au, an extra large order of fluff, comedy!!, jungkook being a brat as per usual, a touch of angst, and of course a sprinkling of nsfw

→ wordcount: 20.5k words holy moly''

into the wilderness - @gukyi ♾️Ω ☼

''summary: alright, so last summer’s camp was… disastrous. from the murky green showers to the wasps nests, it was all-around a bad time. but none of those things could be quite as catastrophic as the end-of-camp counselor campfire, when you told park jimin that you were in love with him. and if telling him was terrible, then seeing him again this summer, one year after your fruitless confession, just might be the death of you.

{camp counselor!au, unrequited love!au, friends to lovers!au}

pairing: park jimin x female reader genre: angst, fluff, comedy word count: 27k''

Kim Taehyung

series:

charade- @ughcore ♾️Ω☻

'' “Why would you help me? What are you gonna get out of this?”

Taehyung looks you up and down, the humour twinkling in his eyes like the fairy lights he helped you hang above the TV. He tucks his hands into his armpits, assessing you for a few more moments that leave your skin hot and itchy.

“It’ll be nice to see you out of those fuzzy slippers for once,”

The double entendre lacing his words is nothing new. The tingles in your stomach, however? Yeah, those are brand new.”

kth / fake dating + roommate au + fuckboy!taehyung

ongoing (35k) ''

maybe i do- @chateautae ♾️Ω☻

''➵ summary : maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳ part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre : arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst

➵ rating : 18+

➵ warnings : swearing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety, mentions of confrontative violence (with other characters, not each other), lots of feels concerning forced marriage, a bad ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (consensual, just bad sex), explicit sexual content, oral (m. and f. receiving), unprotected sex, penetrative sex (chapters have their own warnings!)''

A Story that we paint - @thedefinitionofbts ♾️Ω

''PAIRINGS: Jeon Jungkook x Reader | Kim Taehyung x Reader

GENRE: College Au, Future, Scifi, Slight Fluff and Angst

WORDS: 9K (ch.1)

DESCRIPTION: Butterfly Dream: In which the lines between virtual and reality are blurred.''

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oneshots:

the universe of us. - @taesthetes ♾️Ω ¶

'' “I love you.” — “I know.”

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader | kim taehyung x reader genre: slight comedy, angst, fluff type: dream / fantasy / slice of life au word count: 21,112 words warnings: none''

you’re so concerned about the ending that you don’t even know the plot- @joonsgalaxy ♾️☼

''° yoongi x reader x taehyung

° 1.9 k words ° fluff/humor

🌟 you bring your broken laptop to Tae—the IT specialist—who you have a crush on. you drag your bff Yoongi along with you, who—you’re certain—has a crush on Tae too. what a mess, right? well, the thing is, you never even considered the possibility of your assumptions being totally wrong.''

stuck with you || [roommate!taehyung] - @jungshookz ♾️☼☻

''❥ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

❥ genre: university!au, enemies-to-lovers, fratboy!tae??, comedy that’ll either make you chuckle out loud or roll your eyes and snoRT or maybe u won’t laugh that’s cool too, domestic fluff because i want to go grocery shopping with tae toO (but also fluff in general!!), smutty smut so make sure to read this with your phone’s brightness lowered all the dang way, hi @ librarian!namjoon!!! fratboy!jungkook is also in here

❥ wordcount: 37k if ur reading this on mobile get rekt

❥ summary: kim taehyung becoming your new roommate is definitely up there on the list of the worst things that have ever happened to you.''

waterloo - @kinktae ♾️Ω☻¶

''Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn’t believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story.

Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love.“

pairing: art prodigy!taehyung x art student!reader word count: 13k genre: FLUFF, angst, light tasteful smut''

falling in crayolove; (kindergartenteacher!taehyung) - @jungshookz ♾️

''✎ pairing: kim taehyung x reader

✎ genre: kindergartenteacher!au, workingman!au, F L U F F, tiny bit of angst at the start :-( but this is literally 98% fluff; y/n and taehyung are like two little kids with little crushes on each other

✎ trigger warning(s): implications of getting an abortion!!

✎ wordcount: 10.5k

✎ summary: y/n is a very single mom and taehyung is a very single kindergarten teacher. emma knows exactly what she needs to do.''

freefall - @jtrbluv ♾️☼☻

''summary: hearing banging noises outside your front door at 11 at night could mean one out of two things. one, you are seconds away from getting chopped up by an axe murderer. two, someone is purposefully being an inconsiderate asshole.

or three, a fratboy from delta phi who goes by the name of kim taehyung faceplants in front of your door amidst a high-stakes game of… hide and seek?

pairing: taehyung x reader

genre: fluff, smut (pretty tame tbh! cuz it’s my first time eek), comedy, college!au, fratboy!au

word count: 10k

warnings: RATED 18+, grinding, dryhumping, palming, mentions of drugs and alcohol (yk regular frat shit), swearing, taehyung is a gentleman fr tho my gawd with a big co-''

farmer boy, i love you - @strawberrynamjoon ♾️☼☻

''– Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

– Genre: farming!au, lowkey e2l, smut, humor & tons of nagging

– Word count: 35k

– Summary: Needing change in your life you decided it would be a brilliant idea to move to your uncle’s small farm, helping him and your cousin Jimin with the daily work. What you didn’t plan was to fall in love with your beautiful yet very annoying neighbour Taehyung, who seemed to make it his personal mission to tease you every chance he got. And what you expected even less was that he seemed to like you too.

– Warnings: includes smut, alcohol and mentions death of a father''

The Crown That Is Ours - @taeshobipop ♾️Ω☻

''pairing: Taehyung x Reader

genre: fluff, angst, smut, royalty!au, arranged marriage!au, crown prince!th, princess!reader, idiots to lovers

summary: You never wished for it, but it was inevitable — an arranged marriage to a royal stranger. The Crown Prince Kim Taehyung.

A year into your marriage and life still holds you firmly in its grip. How do you plan to steer through this mess when the public suddenly comes knocking at your door, pitchforks and torches in hand, threatening: “death to all who commit fraud!”

rating: 18+ sexual content.''

Rent-a-Boyfriend - @jimlingss ♾️

''Words: 12k

Genre: Extreme fluff for all you bitter people out there (me being included)

Are YOU lonely? Need someone to cuddle at night? Do you want love?

If you said 'yes' to any of the questions previously mentioned then we have a service for you!

Don't be alone for this Valentine's Day!

Come Rent-a-Boyfriend!™

(terms and conditions may apply. we are not responsible for any emotional or sentimental damages. please take caution with rent-a-boyfriend). ''

Jeon Jungkook

series:

new girl - @jjkeverlast ♾️☼☻¶

''☞ summary after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong? – inspired by the FOX series New Girl.

☞ pairing jeon jungkook x female reader

☞ genre roommates!au, roommates to lovers, romantic comedy

☞ status completed!

☞ rated mature (+18)''

Her - @jungk0oksthighs ♾️Ω☻

''bestfriend!jungkook, tattooist!jungkook, F2L, fluff, smut, angst

“And even if you don’t feel the same, that’s okay – I’ll always be here for you.” ''

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oneshots:

like stars in a constellation - @taegills ♾️Ω ¶

''↬ meeting in reverse au

pairing: jeon jungkook | reader

genre: slight sci-fi, fluff, angst

word count: 20.9k

summary: And at midnight, as you sit there and contemplate how the two of you were like stars in a constellation, you watch the sky with bated breath. Because somehow, for the first time since you got caught up in all of this a year ago, it almost seems like the stars are finally spiraling backwards and time feels a little more still than ever before. And when you hear your name, you turn around so fast that the world stops spinning''

the universe of us. - @taesthetes ♾️Ω ¶

'' “I love you.” — “I know.”

pairing: jeon jungkook x reader | kim taehyung x reader genre: slight comedy, angst, fluff type: dream / fantasy / slice of life au word count: 21,112 words warnings: none''

tangled webs - @ughseoks ♾️Ω

''— pairing; spiderman!jungkook x reader

— genre/au; soulmate au / spiderman au / angst, fluff

— rating; pg15

— word count; 14.1k

— summary; Soulmates are tricky thing. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their destinies intertwined with their missing piece. Signs come in dreams for those fortunate souls; short bursts that are barely memorable when the sun rises. As for you? Flashes of red and blue are your only indicators to the identity of your other half.''

Hopping Mad for You - @readyplayerhobi ♾️☻

''; Rabbit Hybrid!Jungkook x Reader

; Genre: Fluff, smut

; Word Count: 9.7k

; Warnings: Unprotected sex, handjob, blowjob, virgin sex, virgin!Jungkook, pretty sub!Jungkook

; Synopsis: For two years you’ve lived with your rabbit hybrid roommate, Jungkook. He’s been a model roommate and you’ve found yourself with little complaints. But his behaviour lately has been a little…unusual.''

Devoted to Trouble - @jeonsweetpea ♾️Ω ☻ ☼

''Spider-Man!AU | Peter Parker!Jungkook x Reader

genre: fluff, smut, comedy, lil angst rating: explicit description: In which the whole world finds out Jungkook is Spider-Man, but he doesn’t care about anything but you. OR Can you survive seven days of Jungkook pining over you while his identity is exposed to the world? word count: 11.5k''

The Love Plaza - @mayolive-writes ♾️☻ ☼

''Pairing: Jungkook x AFAB Reader

Summary: Needing to take a break from the long trip to college, you and Jungkook are forced to stay at the only lodging available within 70 miles, a love motel. And much to Jungkook’s dismay, there’s only one bed.

Wordcount: 4102

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Smut, Best Friends to lovers, Oneshot(?)''

the underwear thief - @gukyi ♾️☻

''summary: jeon jungkook would like to make one thing very clear: it’s not his fault.

{neighbors!au}

pairing: jungkook x female reader word count: 10k genre: fluff, smut''

1999 - @tattookoo ♾️Ω ☻ ☼

''summary: the year was 1999. boybands were wearing all-white outfits, everybody wanted an ibook or a tamagotchi, tlc didn’t want no scrubs, fight club was playing in movie theaters and you became jeon jungkook’s fake girlfriend in order to fix his reputation.

pairing: campus royalty!jungkook x f reader

genre: one shot, 90s au, college au, hockey au, childhood neighbors to friends to idiots to lovers, fake dating, fluff, crack, angst, smut rating: 18+

word count: 17.9k''

tuesdays - @axialitae ♾️Ω

''tldr. you believe your very reserved, reclusive roommate jungkook is a peculiar boy who’s far too concerned with how you spend your tuesdays.

💭 prompt. “i don’t owe you an explanation.”

🤍 pairing. jungkook x f.reader.

🐻‍❄️ genre. non-idol au. pure domestic fluff. tiny angst. roomies + kinda dumb-dumbs to luvrs.

☁️ word count. 12.1k''

Tamped - @chimoona ♾️Ω ☻ ☼

''Pairing: Shop Owner!Reader x Barista!Jungkook/Switch!Jungkook/Baby Boy!Koo, Reader x Dom!Yoongi (for, like, a second) Genre: Smut, Fluff, Humor, Slow Burn, Mild Angst/Jealousy | Barista AU Word Count: 19.7K Rating: M (18+) Summary: You and your business partner/best friend Jin have struggled to find good help to run your coffee shop. Employee after employee, it just never worked out. However, Jungkook is determined to impress and deliver. He wants this more than ever, and it always feels good to want something. To need, well, that’s even better.''

(Right) Hook, Line, and Sinker - @blog-name-idk ♾️☻ ☼

''Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your horrible friends trick you into going to a haunted corn maze, where you inadvertently punch a zombie. Jungkook is, of course, in love.

Word Count: 12,353''

OT7

series:

The Return of an Empress - @you-are-my-joy ♾️Ω ☻ ☼¶

''Status: Completed

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Genre: Isekai, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Smut

Characters: Empress!Reader, Advisor!Jin, Advisor!Yoongi, General!Hoseok, Advisor!Namjoon, Assassin!Jimin, Knight!Taehyung, Knight!Jungkook

Summary: After one fateful night, you find yourself transmigrated into your favorite novel as the Empress that shares the same name as you. As a bookworm, most would think you’d be happy, but how could you be happy when the Empress you’ve become is expected to be killed in three months. The only thing on your mind now is to learn how to survive.

Warning: May contain depictions of violence and mentions of abuse throughout the story.

Total Word Count: 280,808''

mother knows best - @seokth ♾️☼ ¶

''pairing | ot7 x female reader (platonic), ot7 moms & female reader

summary | being the only woman in a friend group with seven men automatically makes you the love interest in seven mothers’ wistful romantic stories. though your relationship with the guys remains completely platonic, the marriage fantasy their moms frequently project onto you and their sons has them coming up with all sorts of shenanigans to make you their daughter-in-law. mother knows best, you suppose.

warnings | overbearing moms, attempts at humor, platonic, slice of life au''

The Flower Path - @stellalunatmblr ♾️Ω ¶

''Genre/Tags: isekai (kinda?), bangtan x fem!reader, not poly, oc!bestfriend, surprise romantic pairings; rom-com (romance as a subplot), slow burn (the slowest of burns holy moly i cannot stress this enough), fluff, angst (will update tags along the way)

Status: Ongoing [HOLD]

Summary: What would you feel if you find yourself transported to the world of a cheesy web novel? Ecstatic, of course (well, among other things), except you’re stuck being the main character’s best friend slash sidekick. Fair enough, you don’t think you’re main character material anyway. Determined to get through your life that has changed all of a sudden, you try to keep yourself in the shadows of your “best friend.” Let’s just try to get through the last year of high school in peace. You thought it was gonna be easy – like a walk in a flower path– but the thing about walking that road is that there are bound to be thorns along the way.

Inspired by the web novel and manhwa: Inso’s Law''

operation: love letters - @ve1vetyoongi ♾️Ω ¶

''Sign up for the Love Calculator today to find your perfect match?

➤ YES | NO

♡ …L O A D I N G…Y O U R…M A T C H E S… ♡

♡ ⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader.

♡ ⇢ wordcount: est 30k total.

♡ ⇢ genre: mystery, college!au, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

♡ ⇢ summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!''

The Galaxy Above Us - @agustdakasuga ♾️Ω

''Genre: Gods!AU, Fantasy, Romance, Fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, God of Wisdom!Namjoon, God of Life!Seokjin, God of the Moon!Yoongi, God of Festivity!Hoseok, God of the Sun!Jimin, God of Nature!Taehyung, God of Arts!Jungkook

Summary: Just when you thought that you life was at its end, you were ready to disappear but a door appears in front of you. Above you was the milky way and awaiting you were the celestial beings that waited their whole lives for you. To show the galaxy that was made for you.''

Everything Falls (Into Place) - @blog-name-idk ♾️☻ ☼

''Pairing: OT7 x Fem Reader

Genre: College!AU, Roommate!AU, Fluff, Humor, Smut

Summary: Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Word Count: 90,211

Rating: 18+''

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oneshots:

until the last star falls - @minniepetals ♾️Ω ¶

''— summary: it was a love you knew would never make it out alive without sacrificing a part of your happiness to receive a greater happiness. but for them, you’d go to any extreme to have them again, and for you, they will always remind you each day that you are theirs and that nothing can tear you apart, not even until the last star falls.

— pairing: underworld lords!bts × shield!reader

— genre: fluff, angst / reincarnation!au / poly!au / gods!au

— word count: 44.4k ”

Spooked - @alpacaparkaseok ♾️☼

''Pairing:best friend!BTS, maybe some secret crushes going on? 👀

Premise: You + all 7 members of BTS visiting a haunted house. What could go wrong?

So, so much.

Word Count: 4k''

722 notes · View notes

obriengf · 4 months

Text

Forbidden Cloth || Stiles Stilinski x Reader

Summary: Stiles uncovers a strong disdain for Ugly Christmas Sweaters. Words: 1k Warnings: just stiles being cute af so don't read if you're not into that Notes: guys i rambled so much in this

hope he's bringing me love this christmas cause i deserve you here ✩

"Do you like my sweater?" Your voice carried such sweetness; an innocence that made a young man's heart swell with an overwhelming warmth. With that tone, you could get away with whatever you wanted and he would be right behind you, following every move, your cheerleader for life. You stood in his kitchen doorway, arms stretched between the dark wooden arches, a sense of 'ta-da' shown on the high upturn of your smile and showman's stance. And Stiles would have happily played along - singing your praises, throwing compliments - if it wasn't for the hideous fabric gracing your frame. His face dropped; speechlessness weighing down his tongue, brows furrowed and head tilted as he was truly lost with what to say. Your sweater soon absorbed every ounce of his focus and Stiles hated it. Truly, absolutely hated it. His jaw moved as words gathered yet remained unspoken, until, in candid Stiles' fashion, he let his mouth run before he could think it through, "What the hell is that?" Your brows furrowed, only mildly taken aback by his outright and unfiltered way of finally speaking. You hummed, "What are you on about?" Your question was rhetorical, to you at least, knowing full well that the itchy and bright bundle of fabric that you wore was anything but appealing. But you couldn't help yourself - messing around with the awkward mess that was your boyfriend was something that never failed to put a smile on your face. With pursed lips, you gazed down at your sweater, trying your hardest to not visibly cringe at the exaggerated embellishments. You hummed once more as faux naiveness contorted your features, "You don't like my sweater, baby?"

"I-I..." Stiles mumbled, trepidation sneaking inside his thoughts, trying to convince him to avoid offence. But the thing about Stiles Stilinski, even though he is the epitome of support and determination, he also has a bad habit of forgetting to filter his opinions before they escape his busy mind. "Like it? But it's so... so ugly."

It was quick when you saw his eyes widen; large warm irises of brown complementing his raised brows and ajar jaw. It was as if the mere second the words left his lips, Stiles realised what he said, and how much trouble he could be in. A deer caught in headlights, frozen and unmoving despite the rapid racing of his heart as it reverberated in his chest. He was potentially, and utterly, screwed.

"Wait, you think it's ugly?" You repeated his words, shot them straight back with a delicate timbre as your hands ran down the sides of the mismatched patterned wool. Stiles was looking worried now, and your capacity for games was wearing thin when you could see how he was beginning to pale. You managed a chuckle, filled with light and sincerity, as you began making your way toward him, "Good thing that was the whole point."

He watched you snort, his face dumbfounded, amusement breaking at the seams as his brows rose and the corners of his lips lifted in absolute puzzlement. His body was tense as he had braced himself for the blowback of how his unfiltered words could have caused harm, how they could have made you sad and insecure. He would never hurt you, not intentionally, and the guilt was hasty when it seeped deep into his bones and set every alert and emotion alight.

But now he was staring at you and that beautiful smile that was burnt in the back of his mind - living there rent-free, happily, most likely for the rest of his life. And by god, did it make him smile back with just as much joviality.

"I-I don't... baby, if you don't like it, why are you wearing it?" His words laughed but remained quiet as you got closer. It took everything for him to not come face to face with the bright and retched cloth in front of him as he opted to instead stand, eventually towering over your shorter frame, his hands large and delicate as they cupped your cheeks so habitually. Thumbs rubbed tentatively against skin; the touch was barely felt, but it was enough to provoke a red blush to gather where Stiles trailed.

You went to speak but froze in place - his childish gaze making you melt into the backdrop of your Christmas-covered apartment, always so mesmerised after all this time spent together. He had an effect on you, and he seemed to know it by the way his eyes had a mischievous glint that complemented well with his bitten lip.

"It's a thing, wearing ugly sweaters for Christmas." You breathed as your hands pressed to his chest, maintaining some sort of stability as he continued to courteously invade your space. His head tilted as he once did before, curiosity in the form of large puppy eyes and relaxed brows now contorting his features. It made you laugh within your word's undertones, "I've seen people do it on social media and it's cute, you know? Couples wearing matching sweaters -"

"You got me one too?" Stiles intercepted, but you could hear the hesitation in his voice. He loved you, so much, probably too much, but just the idea of wearing something as off-putting as your own sweater was something that made him cringe. "There's no way that you're gonna get me in one of those, sweetheart. I'd burn down the world for you, hell, I'd help you bury a body, but I'm not doing this ugly sweater thing."

He put his metaphorical foot down, but you saw no harm. If there was one thing that you admired so incredibly much about Stiles Stilinski, it would be his outright honesty - sometimes confused for an unfiltered mess, but you loved it regardless. You smiled up at him and he smiled back, unspoken understanding building the foundation of your relationship and it made the man lean down and press a gentle peck to your forehead.

His lips dragged down to your cheeks, your lips, under your ear before he whispered against your sensitive skin, "Alright, now go take that hideous thing off, and that cute little skirt while you're at it."

#dylan o'brien x reader #stiles stilinski x reader #dylan o'brien #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski imagine #teen wolf #teen wolf x reader #dylan o'brien fic #dylan o'brien imagine #teen wolf fic #teen wolf imagine #obriengfchristmas

204 notes · View notes

teawithnosugar · 4 months

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Singer!Ellie headcanons

AN: oh em geee, hi hi hi. I know it’s been like AWHILE and I promised a oneshot (it is still in my drafts and more than halfway done) but I’ve been crocheting for a good 8 hours straight, it’s 4am, and I put my rlly rlly old playlist on shuffle and the songs gave me IDEAS. I did not follow my usual format (???) on this cause likeeee…yk, I’m sleepy and tired and lazy. Also this isn’t like super accurate cause obviously I’m not a singer and idk how they work.

CW: none rlly, I mentioned reader wearing dresses once

★ Imagine Ellie writing music not in the Arctic Monkeys or Chase Atlantic way a lot of ppl picture but in the Boygenius (pretty common) and Ed Sheeran way iykwim.

★ She’s rich af but doesn’t spend big amounts of money unless it’s for you. It doesn’t matter if you have your own money or you didn’t ask her to— SHE WILL SPOIL YOU.

★ Picture her in the most “okay” looking clothes that are so low quality that it makes her itchy but she’s buying you Versace dresses and shit.

★ She’s never told anyone except for Jesse (you guys’ bff and her music producer) but whenever she’s planning her next tour or concert with her staff, she tries to suggest dates and times that are convenient for you to watch. She absolutely needs you in the audience for her to perform well but she would never ask you to change your schedule for her.

★ Nah but just imagine her singing smtg like Perfect or True Blue on stage and her eyes are on you legit 99% of the time and people on tiktok post abt it nonstop.

★ If you had a career that made you just as famous as her, you bet she’s saving every single edit of you she sees on tiktok or insta.

★ Obviously she has your initials carved on her guitar and obviously everyone saw.

★ She’s already written many different versions of what her vows would be once you guys got married and every time she had a new draft, she’d turn the old one(s) into songs so they wouldn’t be a waste.

★ She never told you but one of her albums was just all old drafts of her vows to you.

★ You fully trust her 100% but sometimes you need reassurance every once in awhile but you also don’t like bothering her. She tells you all the time that you could never bother but you’re stubborn so whenever she’s staying late at the studio because she’s busy she makes Jesse send pictures of her to you like once every hour or so so you could see that she was truly at work and not doing anything else (like bereal ig).

★ She also made sure to tell Jesse not to say that she told him to do it. He just says shit like “ooh like at how obsessed this bitch is with you, this new song is cheesy af” so it comes off as him teasing you instead of reassuring you.

★ Is super awkward but in a charming way.

★ Your wedding would be super private and as soon as you guys are married, she takes time off work more often to spend more time with you.

★ In conclusion, she’s down BAD

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou 2 #ellie williams headcanons

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redgitanako · 5 months

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top 5⃣ headwear?

🐸: best headwear is nothing at all bc my head gets itchy from hats..... but here, sorting by comfort:

1. SCARF

protects from wind and sun

warm

hides your face

cute

doesn't mess up hair

can be tied in different ways depending on the material

2. SUNGLASSES

yea as headwear

cool af

can hide ur eyes from the sun

- can get tangled in your hair :(

3. HAIR CLIPS

cute

hold hair in place

can be used as a lockpick

- not by me :(

4. BERET

chic

cute,,,,

can be warm or not

can be worn on top of the head = not itchy

5. BUCKET HAT

kpop idol swag

hides you from the sun

and from people

can put cool pins on it

can be used as a real bucket (if it's waterproof)

#ask reg #ask game

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rainbowchaox · 1 year

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Monster of the week rancher au part 4: small things that make me happy.

1. The first time Tango makes Jimmy a bouquet was made of Poison Ivy. He is trying his best. Yes Jimmy grabbed it and now has to deal with his hands being itchy for the day or so

2. Impulses shitty van is the Nokia of cars. It can handle being throw like every weekend by the monster of the week but has the worst engine. Type of car that is on its last legs engine wise.

3. Jimmy and Grian Great Grandma used to be a moonshiner back in the day. And whenever they visit her she always said back in my day but like wack stuff. Ex: “Back in my day we would sunk you in the lake”

4. Jimmy is a western/cowboy nerd. So much that his dnd character he plays in his friend’s campaign is a cowboy. Has a whole ass collection of Clint Eastwood Movies.

5. Tango loves those wack conspiracy and alien/monster documentary. Solely to laugh at it because it’s always so off. Yes he watches documentaries about himself as well.

6. Tango has actual beef with the Mothman. Yes mothman exists in this au and tango is no brain just punch whenever he sees the mothman.

7. Jimmy has to keep a ladder in Impulses van because Tango gets stuck on the roofs of buildings so often.

8. Jimmy is a Eagle Scout and is lowkey bullied by the younger Boy Scouts. But at the same time the small kids will beat up others for their weird teen.

9. Jimmy is definitely a flannel bisexual. He always is wearing some sort of flannel overtop.

10. Jimmy mom always wins the community baking competition with her special Apple pies. No one knows her secret why they taste so good.

11. Tango has gotten his hand stuck in a Pringle can. Jimmy had to olive oil it out for him.

12. Scar has wore a overcoat and was like “Whata ya buyin” but instead it’s like potions and crystals. The teachers thinks he is selling drugs tho.

13. When Tango is really happy his purrs are so loud it shakes the room he is in like a earthquake.

14. Tango loves to be fully human but when only Grian is looking at him (especially when he’s over at their place for dinner) loves to show off slight monstrous traits. Like blinking with a second eye lid or smiling with way too much teeth.

15. Jimmy does know how to hunt but boy it took him forever for him to get a squirrel to present to Tango as a token of his affection. He is trying his best to monster flirt.

16. Tango because he doesn’t know how to human flirt does present dead animals usually deer to Jimmy as a way to flirt.

17. Tango is surprisingly rich af. It’s just he had no concept of money before meeting Jimmy and his human friends. He stole so much from campers and hikers.

18. Tango got manipulated into joining journalism once he went to the school as a student. And everyone in said journalism class is wanting to do a piece on him as the red stalker. But no one believes he is the red stalker even when he plainly admits that fact.

19. The fact is the one high vampire that can infect others in town is literally decades worth in debt and lives in the attic of his shitty tourist plus secret pawn shop trap. (Vampire Scott my beloved)

20. Tango doesn’t pass the mirror test. He sees his reflection he thinks it’s someone else. On his bad days he may try attacking the stranger. Tango is a feral good boy. But I never said he was smart.

#team rancher #rancher duo #monster of the week rancher au

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noturprobiem · 3 months

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a little horror piece i wrote

cw: blood, a description of a dead body, a mention of cannibalism for a second

I have had a fascination with the forest since early childhood. My parents took me there to pick berries and mushrooms every autumn and those were my happiest moments back then. So, when it was time to go again, right after my eleventh birthday, I was ecstatic.

It was truly a beautiful sight. Red and yellow leaves a blanket on the wet, cold ground, lush tree crowns of gold and bronze shining in the morning sun. I loved the way air smelled then, of dump grass and fresh dirt, of bark and pine.

You need to be covered head to toe in thick clothes to protect you from mite and thorns, so you walk and move slowly. It's not very cold this time of year, but after hours and hours outside your cheeks and nose become pink and itchy. Well, as a child I didn't care about anything other than getting my basket full of the best mushrooms I could find and eating as much berries as possible. Nothing could convince me it was time to head home. Nowadays you can't pay me enough to spend even a minute in the woods.

We were far from the only family there, now and again I saw someone pass by, sometimes even with dogs, which I liked very much as a kid. I remember telling my parents that we should get a dog, too, so it can protect us from wild animals, which only made them chuckle.

I don't really remember how I got lost. After so many years I might have imagined so many details that weren't even there, so many thoughts and feelings that I retroactively assigned to a child who just wandered off into the woods. However, when I think of that time, all that comes to mind is that I felt compelled to see where a path hidden between two wide tree trunks would lead me. I walked and walked until I almost reached a clearing and stopped, frozen in place. Only then I noticed a rhythmic, moist sound of chewing. A sudden gust of wind brought a metallic smell of blood and meat with it. There was something big and moving behind the last row of trees. I held my breath and covered my mouth with my hand. Dad taught me that you should never run or scare a hungry wild animal, so I stayed put, refusing to even take a peek. I could feel my heart pumping blood in my temples, my hands and legs shaking with every escaping gasp as the sound of tearing flesh came again and again. I didn't cry. I was too focused on surviving.

But after a long, long time I couldn't take it anymore. I looked. What was before me did not look like any real animal but every description I gave made adults sure it was an elk. It was massive, with giant deer antlers, its limbs smooth and dark, stretched and bent in unnatural ways. But I can swear that its face didn't look like anything I've seen before. It's neck twisted to reveal a flat, round muzzle with big black eyes staring straight into my soul. I stared back. With every passing second my heart accelerated and I was ready for it to stop for good. But the creature made a few small steps away, as if inviting me to feast together. This was when I saw its prey.

It was a hunter, with his chest torn open, a gun still lying on the ground near him. I gulped and shook my head. The creature looked at me and tilted its head to the side like a curious puppy. I did the same, hoping it would think I was a friend. Somehow, it worked. It continued its feast without me, only pausing sometimes to look at me. Like it was asking if I'm sure I don't want to join.

When my legs started to ache and only the skeleton was left from the poor guy, it left, turning its head one last time to look at me. I fell to the ground and wept for what seemed like hours until I felt like there was nothing to cry with anymore. I got up and went back where I came from, my legs shaking. But when I heard the voices and finally found my way to the main path, my parents weren't scared at all.

“What, you saw something interesting in the bushes?” Mom asked.

I nodded. And dragged myself after them for hours. Red berries made me want to throw up, mushrooms reminded me of skin and flesh, and I was throwing up for days without any reason, which made my parents scared that I ate the wrong mushroom. And even after the doctors said I was fine, they decided this was our last trip to the forest.

Of course, I wasn't going to argue with that.

#phlox writing #horror #writing #written for fun #monsters #mystical horror #amateur writer #baby's first horror story #cw: gore #cw blood #cw death #cw horror

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darkfictionjude · 5 months

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Hey Jude! You know you rock!

I'm overthrowing shit again so here goes. I feel iffy af about romancing Lorcan. No hate to people who want to do his route.. I low-key clocked it myself but the more i think about it the more i get sketched out. So personal preference no hate all that jazz.

like he is basically obsessed with MCs dead sister who he was dating and she was a horrible bitch. I've never had writing who made me dislike a person more in my life so quickly. You are that good.

So all these dynamics come into play. MC being a replacement in the eyes of others, all that stupid guilty feelings of betrayal he's gonna have.. my MC hopefully wouldn't because his sister sucked and he owes he absolutely fucking nothingness. So it's angsty as hell. I know I'm rambling stay with me . Sorry.

But my constant thought is just Orla was a bully. Everyone knew that. Her cruelty I can't speak on yet and only you would know but I imagine she was up there with the worst of them. Especially from MCs initial coming home scene where the option to feel fear when walking past her room stuck with me. So did Lorcan partake in her cruelty? Or did he know about it and just watched? Just pretended it wasn't happening? Bullying by association is just as bad to me.

And I know alot of people in this IF are assholes family especially except Sally for not stopping it but for Lorcan approach MC the way he did by cornering them basically knowing what he knew and them just coming back home to be interrogated by them about a whole BULLY shows so little fucking care it's annoying to me.

As someone who had an Orla in her life I just can't seperate them if that's the case. If he did know what and how she was to our MC. That party scene pisses me off because how fucking dare he! And if he was a participant in her torture of MC then to me him and just stood around him and Orla are basically one and the same and that just deads his route for me entirely. I wouldn't be able to believe in his care for MC at all because he would lack decent compassion for me. Atleast Imre and Nia vocalize their displeasure with how Orla was romancing someone that will then tell you they love you.. who also loved someone who practically made your life a living hell makes me feel itchy.

Again no hate on the Lorcan romancer or you just my rambling because this story is burning through my brain.

Love the rambles, love the players insight.

That’s why I made sure there were three ROs and that they were all different and had different interactions with mc before the beginning of the story so that you can feel free to chose who you want. I do see why some people wouldn’t want to date him, understandable.

Now the thing with Orla is that even though she knew Lorcan didn’t like mc she kept the real abusive stuff in private. Like with Lorcan she would at most call mc names cruel names but that’s as far as it went in front of him. The real verbal abuse happened in the house when orla would catch mc alone. And it all has to do with that self image, a perfect girl isn’t never makes a spectacle out of herself in public, a perfect girl never shows how their sibling someone so insignificant (in her eyes) could get under her, THE orla crown’s skin.

The most Orla ever did in public was sometimes shoulder mc out of the way at school or tell her friends when mc wasn’t there how much of a freak they were. And that’s typical of abusers isn’t it? They show a better image to the world and then show you who they are when the door is closed.

If she had been worse in front of Lorcan I don’t know what his reaction would be because he doesn’t know it and that will probably be something that haunts if you chose his route or not

thank you for the compliments 💜

#anon asks #orla #mc crown #we wretched creatures

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rachymarie · 11 days

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Fellow autistics or sensitive skin babez please I need to know (buckle up this gon' be a long one):

Have you found that your skin has gotten more intolerant as you age or have I just been masking how in pain i am for like the majority of my life out in public wearing normal people clothes??

I just had to go out grocery shopping etc with stockings on under my (what would have otherwise been super comfy) sweat shorts (the blue Pantone ones from Boohoo, oh how I love them) bc I hadn't shaved in a few weeks and didnt want to put the public eye thru that lol (idc what other people want to do with their body hair, just do what makes you feel happy but I admit I just can't fully shed the social conditioning I grew up with to keep my own legs and pits hairless if they're gonna be on show) - and it was somewhat excruciatingly itchy at first and I don't think it truly died down, but with all the distractions of shopping etc I did kinda get used to/forget about it a little. But as soon as I got home at the soonest possible moment I changed back into pjs, one of the only type of clothing my skin can handle anymore.

So yeah I've either lived a whole life in pain/discomfort, spending a lot of energy and distractions masking it until I was used to feeling horrible all the time (I used to wear predominantly tight clothes for a large portion of my life), or my skin has gotten less tolerant as I suspect.

Or do we just grow less apt at masking our discomfort as we age?

Younger autistics please bear in mind - and I'm not really even THAT old yet but I am a decade+ older than teenage years now - well, when I was growing up I feel like it generally wasn't "cool" to be autistic?? Or any kind of neurodivergent, unless you count emos bc a lot of us were depressed and it was made a cool thing but i feel like people weren't getting disagnosed/the help we needed, instead self-harm was trendy etc, it was kinda problematic af. and I feel like most of us went undiagnosed (for a lot of issues, actually), especially women and other afab. And now we're just trying to get our struggles recognized/a name for our struggles and failure to be "normal" all these years, and maybe even some bloody help for it, rather than being told we don't matter bc we're "over the hill" now or something and only kids struggle with autism? Lol

Do any kiwis have affordable suggestions for pants I can buy that don't look like pyjamas? If I could cut damn Polyester and the likes out of my life for pure fabrics I would in a heartbeat, but it's not so easy.

The best pants I ever wore were my first pair of Peter Alexander (summer) pj pants - which I still have and are still intact, but can barely fit - back before the brand's quality went to complete shit (granted I have a few pieces that are great, but it's really hit and miss if you will actually get what you bought in one piece/without defects. I finally decided it's not worth it to buy Peter Alexander anywhere near full price. They're good with refunds but the quality control is like worse than Shein/Temu).

Those pants were 100% cotton and idk how they did it but they were like heaven in a fabric and I wished I could just wear them everywhere. Honestly felt like the first time I wasn't in any pain or discomfort at all wearing bottoms.*

Apologies this turned into a ramble with several tangents (even a brand review) but maybe it resonates with someone out there and hopefully it brings me some answers in time

Thanks for reading if you got this far <3 now I'd better tag some trigger warnings etc and then it's time to finally nap, feeling sick again after all the activity

*ok so as this ramble developed, it sparked a tangent ramble (rambleception), and another ramble on top of that, which I felt needed to be their own posts. Will link them below once posted:

[Tangent ramble 1] [Tangent ramble 2]

Scratch that I have since decluttered all the subsequent/tangent rambles as I was not well (may edit down and repost or something)

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infinite-orangepeel · 1 year

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a whumpy af steve harrington excerpt from ch. 2 of my soft dom eddie fic

aka this boy has a lot of unresolved trauma & eddie munson is going to help him heal

(the rest of the chapter that contains the actual smut will be linked below, i’m scared of tumblr shadow banning me again for posting the full thing in here)

READ THE TW BEFORE YOU PROCEED PLEASE !! THIS ONE IS HEAVY !! : angst to the max, panic attacks, self-injurious behaviors, blood, suicidal ideation, vomiting/nausea (as symptom of panic attacks), head trauma/partial memory loss, disordered eating habits, ptsd, heavy themes, smut, lots of emotions & general sadness for stevie

★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★○★

Steve wakes up in clothes that don’t belong to him, struggling to the surface from the dark recesses of yet another nightmare. His linen sheets are drenched in a cold sweat that makes it seem like he was running away from a real physical threat instead of a discarnate mental one. He doesn’t remember the exact contents of the dream.

Only distantly aware that it must have been somehow related to The Upside Down, because his heart is racing, his blood feels thin beneath the layer of blue veins, and the fine hairs on the back of his neck are standing straight up–like that of a cartoon cat spooked by its owner. The need to throw up his knotted guts, to purge the diseased thoughts in his brain, arises before he can even release a proper yawn or check the clock on his bedside table.

He has no idea what time it is, no memory of crawling into bed, no recollection of how he ended up in a faded Judas Priest band tee and navy briefs.

Or, at least he doesn’t, until he’s shaking from the drying sweat on his chest and can’t handle the itchy overstimulation of the tag sewn along the back of the shirt. It scratches ruthlessly against his skin and that’s going to send him into a whole other level of crisis if he doesn’t get it off his body right this instant.

Crossing his arms over his front and pulling at the hem, he frees himself from the prison of thick cotton and inhales as deeply as his shallow lungs will allow him to. Oxygen is apparently in limited supply today–not a total surprise post-nightmare, but still frustrating to confront depletion on a constant basis. Everything about his existence feels watered down, barren, and sapped of purpose–it’s been that way for a while. Never can the glass be half-full, there’s always a leak somewhere or a chip in the side–draining the liquid no matter how many times Steve bends over backwards to patch up the problem.

It’s unfixable.

He’s unfixable.

At that thought, acid burns in the basin of his esophagus and Steve recognizes that it’s only a matter of moments before the ugliness living inside him paints a putrid surrealist scene across his duvet and becomes tangible. Maybe it will be olive or yellow or translucent; that part’s invariably up to chance. Luck of the draw. Anyone’s game.

The act itself is the constant. Eyes flutter open–mechanized by his fucked up circadian rhythm–and then one, two, three pitiful almost breaths are taken as he reenters reality.

On most mornings, Steve’s throat is still swollen and scratchy from his nightly routine. As a boy, he was never scared of the dark–ran past the tree-line in his backyard until the moon was his sole source of light, unbothered by what may lurk in the shadows. As a man, he dreads the fall of the sun, mourns its disappearance like a devoted follower would grieve a lost prophet.

Night is black. Night is void. Night is terror. Night is fear. Night is shame.

The creatures that disturb and haunt his withered soul draw their strength beneath the cover of dusk. The darker it gets the more powerful they become. Naturally, Steve vomits from the torture they inflict. His body attempts to defend from the attack by luring the invaders out from the fortresses they have built between his organs.

It’s no use. Their poison lingers and eats him alive no matter how many times he kneels in front of the porcelain bowl and unearths the truth–that he is useless, loveless, worthless, and so, so very alone.

Through the hangover of fear and loathing–and a generous helping of unresolved blunt trauma to the head–Steve forgets about Eddie’s visit from the night prior. He forgets the whispered confessions and breathless kisses shared on the couch downstairs. He forgets moaning into each other’s wanton mouths and Eddie’s strong hands coaxing him out of his head.

He forgets and forgets and forgets and then–suddenly, dizzily, all at once–Steve remembers.

It’s an out of body experience–automatic by nature of careful practice–pressing his nose to the borrowed t-shirt and breathing in the distinct, musky scent of cigarette smoke and caution thrown to the wind. It’s the sweet, filtered fragrance of risk and flame and ringed fingers gripping his hips. Rolling them down with control onto firm, grounding hardness and delectably licking each whine out from behind Steve’s teeth. Waves of passion and pleasure and belonging and Eddie’s broad chest providing a safe place to land when all was said and done.

Steve remembers and he wants.

There’s a blip in time–like the thin pause of a lucid dream–in which the corners of Steve’s smart mouth twitch up in memory. Beaming golden light from cheek to blushing cheek; like the bliss of the setting sun warming the remains of the day with one final pink hued glow. A last hurrah, a gentle kiss, a bid farewell as childhood horror ensues in the form of shadowless creatures.

Feelings of euphoria and desire are torched by the sudden realization that Eddie is gone. The left side of the bed appears untouched–pillows fluffed, sheets tucked in and—

Oh, there it is again. Hello, old friend.

Acidic vulnerability merges with confusion and tears sting his aching flesh. Every nerve is ablaze with pain and hurt and the abandonment that Eddie promised wouldn’t happen. He’d sworn it up and down, palm practically pressed to the exoskeleton of a Bible with the way he’d taken Steve’s heart in his hands.

I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere, okay?

Never, Stevie. Never leaving you again.

He’s out of his mind with the hyperfixated belief that this is to be his permanent script–the character written out of the story the moment act two begins.

Why give lines to the actor who can never seem to speak them correctly? Why write them for the anxious wreck of a man who stumbles on every word and can’t follow a single stage cue without fucking up miserably?

Morning arrives as a stab in the back. A knife that goes from spine to heart, severing connection.

Eddie left. Eddie promised to stay and promised to care and promised to protect and still, he left.

Eddie showed up on his doorstep with the offers of comfort and presence and certainty and still, he left.

Eddie left.

Like Tommy.

Like Nancy.

Like Robin.

Like the kids.

Like Mom.

Like Dad.

It didn’t take long for Eddie to peer behind the curtain and see what everyone else always has–that Steve Harrington’s a fucking mess and cleaning him up is pointless work, because he’ll just ruin the effort and puke all over himself again the second the job is finished.

Thankless and tireless, just like what he’s doing right now. Except, he’s the maid in this version of the tale.

Capillaries break from the force of the raw hurt, as Steve retches into his own lap and coats Eddie’s forlorn t-shirt with the ideation of his betrayal. Vitriol burns and burns and he’s sick to the core.

It’s gross. God, Steve knows it’s gross.

It’s rare that he doesn’t covertly and politely participate in his worst habit these days. Sneaking off to the bathroom when he’s in a public setting and the anxiety strikes. Pulling over on the side of the road to hurl into the bushes when he gets triggered driving by the bones of Starcourt. Rationing the few shreds of dignity he still holds claim to by using the toilet or trash-bin when he’s home alone.

This particular scenario has only happened once before and it was much more excusable back then, because he’d been partially drunk and thus, able to blame the foul mistake on the alcohol. Though, he knew it had far more to do with Nancy calling him “bullshit” earlier in the evening than it did with the cheap beer rolling around in his stomach. Trust issues and self-hatred won out in the end, covering his mattress in vile colors that dripped from the edges of his own mouth.

Why should Nancy have ever wanted to give her love to someone so incapable of normalcy? Someone so incapable of loving himself?

Steve really should get up at this point–to clean, to shower, to toss the filth into the laundry. Washing away his sins is just part of the process. He knows this, he’s accustomed to it. He’s built a new life around it–walls of thick, dirty concrete and bulletproof cinder blocks.

But, as much as he knows he should get on with the day and toughen up—like the man his father raised him to be—Steve can’t. He simply can’t. His body is weak, his heart is empty, and there’s nowhere to go. Nowhere to hide from the cruel voices in his head and the poison in his veins.

It follows him, it always follows him. Knows all his tricks.

Steve’s heaving non-breaths and chewing on the guilt he has for merely existing and there’s not enough space between his stupid blood and his stupid skin. He needs to rip open the flesh and crawl out of the body and bury it under the floorboards.

Maybe then he’d be able to greet the pretty sun and her rays without crying, instead of choking himself on the idea that he’ll never be capable of creating such warmth with his own form.

Blinded by an ocean of salty tears, he crashes into the shore of his mattress. Curling into himself on his side and pinching the insides of his thighs as hard as he can. His nails are long enough to tear into the skin and he relishes this fact.

He wants it to hurt, he wants to punish himself for all the things he can’t be– functional, stable, happy.

White hot pain sears his skin, which should be reason enough to stop, but it only serves to egg Steve on. Just another fucked up thing about him. Pain shouldn’t be enticing, but it is to his defiled brain.

Sharp edges pushing deeper and tearing at the seams–only slightly satisfied when drops of red finally trickle down and mix with the rest of the mess. Stains that will take so much bleach and soap and exertion–energy he doesn’t have anymore.

It’s a new low, but he tepidly thinks that maybe he’ll sleep like this tonight–maybe he’ll stay in this rotten bed of expiration all day long. Maybe he’ll lose track of time and melt into the springs and let them slice him limb from limb.

There has to be peace at the end of the tunnel? Right? Follow the light and bleed your last and then you’re free? Isn’t that how it works? Isn’t it?

Blood pools between his legs–gory and without miracle–in a slow, steady stream. His mouth is dry, the bed smells like death, and no one is coming to save him.

He’ll die here–in this house, in this room, in this bed–and no one will be there to kiss him goodbye. No one will jot down his last words for future reference in his eulogy.

Not a bang, but a whimper–that’s how Steve will go out. A tree falling in the forest and no one around to confirm or deny if it made a sound. Blood will color him and his bed the darkest red and that will be how he leaves this Earth.

He just needs to push a little deeper. Maybe a kitchen knife or the edge of one of the nails in his bat. That might work. He’ll go grab one or the other or both once his own hands reach their limit.

Will they even wonder? Will they even care?

No one is coming to save him. No one is coming to save–

Except, well, except apparently, Eddie Fucking Munson.

“Morning!” He sings into the festering room, as if he’s blind to the crime scene and thinks this is the set of some early bird talk show, “I got us coffee and bagels–toasted of course. Figured it wouldn’t hurt to get some caffeine in you too, after last night. Uh–don’t know what you like, so I got two of my favorites. Not to brag, but I’ve been told I have impeccable taste in the–”

Eddie trails off and gasps sharply as he approaches the bed. Steve can’t look up at him, can’t begin to process what’s happening–he’s trapped by his ceaseless pain. His eyes stay shut, refusing to let Eddie in for fear of what he’ll find.

A monster, a beast, an unsightly creature with nothing to live for.

“Fuck,” he murmurs and places a hand on Steve’s trembling shoulder–shuffling around to place the coffee and bagels on the desk, “Are you– Steve –are you okay? What can I do? How can I help you? I want to help. Let me help. Please.”

Steve can’t talk, he can’t find the words to explain what he needs. His tongue feels like a ten ton brick in his mouth–it’s impossible to unhinge his tensing jaw and his teeth feel like overgrown fangs. He doesn’t want to disappoint Eddie. He wants to be good for him, wants to behave, wants to earn his praise and kindness, but he’s as good for nothing as a walkman without batteries.

A bicycle without wheels.

A car without an engine.

Useless. Useless. Useless.

Instead, he groans and rolls towards Eddie–bloody thighs cloaked beneath the sheets. A hideous surprise that would make just about anyone pass out or join him in puking on sight. It’s a lethal picture of a grisly love affair–Steve and the bed he plans to turn into a grave. Forever intertwined.

Honestly, he’s shocked Eddie hasn’t run straight out the door with the bagels and coffee in tow. How could anyone want to share a meal with him in this state?

“Stevie,” Eddie cards a hand through his greasy hair–so gentle and soft, using careful fingers, “If this is like last night–if it's bad again and you can’t talk–can you try another way for me, when you’re ready? We’ll make it simple, something you can do without using any words. You can tap my hand once if you want me to get closer, twice if you’re not sure yet, three times if you don’t want that at all and you’d prefer I leave.”

Hesitation prevents an immediate choice; but only because the slate of options is something that usually intimidates him. Fearful in all instances–mundane and complex–that he’ll choose wrong. But, Eddie’s hand is so warm and kind and safe–cradling him and keeping him present.

And he left, yes that’s true, but it seems he left for good reason. Not for lack of care, but because of it. To nourish Steve and himself. To give instead of take. Maybe it’s okay to trust Eddie. To tourniquet the quiet bleeding and reach for the reprieve of a bandaid in the form of another.

“I swear I’ll shut the fuck up soon, but Stevie-”

Steve loves that nickname. His heart swoons and skips beats at the sound of it in Eddie’s gravelly rasp. Loves the way Eddie brings his name to life like the last line of a love letter or the beginning of a delicate melody.

“Stevie, I’m–I just need you to know that I’m here, okay? I’m here and I don’t want you to be scared. I don’t know if you’re scared actually–but you sure look it–I just, I just really want to make it better. Can I do that for you, sweetheart?” Eddie coos low in his ear and the shackles loosen from Steve’s wrists–allowing him to pry his violent hands away from where they bite into his thighs.

He blinks his swollen lids open, knows this next part is gonna hurt, but Eddie’s so beautiful that the panic dissipates–numbs. The man stands beside his bed–bathed in divine light, like a God of some old world–and pets Steve’s hair in sweet repetition. Coiled electricity lives beneath his skin, bringing color to his pale cheeks and caging angelic concern behind his doe eyes.

Painfully present in the moment with Steve, painfully there to share in his pain and shield him from all that he can.

Decidedly, Steve reaches up to tap Eddie’s hand with one definitive motion. Singular and communicating what can’t be spoken aloud.

Eddie’s face lights up–like Joyce Byers’ living room four years ago–bright and verging on chaotic. Hard to contain in such a limited space.

“Yes! Okay, that’s a yes, right? You want me closer–like to hold you?” Eddie confirms and Steve nods, appreciating how thorough he is–how much he wants to maintain a safe boundary at all times.

“P-please,” Steve mutters and taps Eddie’s hand to reiterate his point, even though it’s somewhat unnecessary now.

He likes the ease of it, the simplicity. Taps seem far less likely to be misinterpreted than words–which Steve tends to jumble by using improper tone or speaking too fast. It’s a more foolproof system than the English language and there’s a large appeal in that. It makes his brain feel fuzzy and coddled, as if there are big earmuffs surrounding the pink matter and nothing bad can get inside. Impermeable.

“Okay. I can do that, absolutely. Just wanna take the covers off and throw them in the laundry real quick,” Eddie says calmly, like the vomit really isn’t all that unappealing, “I’ll be right back.”

He starts peeling back the duvet to clean and Steve whimpers without meaning to. Fresh tears spill down his face and dampen his exposed chest hair. There’s no way this is the same guy that won the superlative for “biggest heartthrob” his senior year. Something must have been chemically or genetically altered since then. Crying, bleeding, covered in his own puke, prepared to die before Eddie provided a welcome distraction—no way.

Eddie notices the sobbing, because of course he does. Pausing in the midst of his cleaning mission, he balls up the duvet and kneels onto the carpet to level himself with Steve. Letting them view each other eye to eye.

“Hey, hey, honey,” Eddie says with compassion, “What’s wrong? Did I do something? Do you want me to put the covers back on? I should have asked you first, before ripping them off the bed. Shit I’m such an idiot.”

Steve sniffles pathetically and snot joins the growing mix of bodily fluids coating his sticky skin. Eddie uses the sleeve of his leather jacket to dab at his nose and cheeks, gentle pressure that brings him strength.

How he’s not disgusted, Steve isn’t sure, but he knows for certain—in this moment—that Eddie Munson is a good man.

A good friend, a good—well, Steve’s not exactly sure what to call him after the way they kissed last night on the couch. Hot and heavy and full of need.

Friends don’t kiss and friends definitely don’t kiss like that.

“Not the covers,” Steve cries and chokes out a breath, “Don’t want you to leave, Eddie.”

A crease forms between the man’s dark brows, hidden in part by his tiered fringe. Steve recalls how it felt to take those tendrils in his hands and pull in desperation. To cling onto the soft curls as pleasure coursed through his body. Eddie’s lap so solid and safe.

“I’ll be right back. I promise. Just don’t want you to lay in this anymore. It’s not good for you and you deserve a nice, clean place to rest. I’ll bring you fresh sheets and then I’ll cuddle you for as long as you like. No rush,” Eddie reassures him, but doesn’t move away from the bed—clearly waiting for a response.

Probably lingering to see how much Steve will break at the suggestion of their temporary separation.

How weak he is, how fragile.

“No,” Steve says firmly and tears punctuate his small demand.

“No, what?” Eddie prompts lightly and sits on the edge of the unkempt bed to further their conversation–somehow he still hasn’t noticed the blood, “No I can’t do your laundry or no I can’t cuddle you?”

“Laundry,” Steve winces as he readjusts his position, the blood is drying thickly between his legs, “Don’t want you to do the laundry, because—because I don’t think you’ll come back.”

There’s no point in scaring him away by explaining that Steve’s little meltdown had quite a bit to do with Eddie’s well intentioned coffee run this morning. That he’d believed Eddie had left him—full stop–without hope of return. That it was a terminal decision that hammered in the final nail in Steve’s coffin.

“Oh,” understanding develops in slow motion over Eddie’s concerned face, “Like my deadbeat dad going to the grocery store for milk? You’re scared that it’s just an excuse, that I don’t actually mean it? Like I’ll say I’m just going to do some laundry, but I’ll run out the door instead without telling you? Is that it?”

Steve laughs a little at the ridiculousness and truth in Eddie’s analogy. He’d known Eddie hadn’t grown up with an overtly present father figure until Wayne, but he hadn’t realized just how similar their childhoods were in that sense until now. Steve’s dad may have been on endless business trips—which was code for having a multitude of affairs—but the absence held a dagger to his heart at the same angle. Aimed at the same vein.

“It’s stupid,” Steve hears himself say in a voice that sounds much closer to the one he typically associates with his public persona, “I’m being immature and you’re just trying to do something nice for me. You shouldn’t have to clean up my mess in the first place. I’m more than capable of doing it.”

No I’m not and I was planning on laying in it for the rest of the time to punish myself, he thinks, but Eddie doesn’t need to know that.

“It’s not stupid, Steve,” Eddie scoots closer to lean against the headboard and gently places Steve’s head in his lap, “You’ve been through a lot in your life, especially these past few years with all the monster shit. Reacting to that—dealing with your trauma—however that may look to other people shouldn’t matter. You’re doing your best to fucking survive and that’s a success in itself. You should be proud of yourself for continuing to push through every day. I’m proud of you, Steve. It’s okay. You don’t have to hide from me and if you don’t want me to leave your room yet, if you’re not ready, then I’ll stay. All you have to do is ask.”

It hurts too much to say it out loud, so Steve taps Eddie’s denim clad leg once and Eddie pulls him closer. Rubbing a hand up and down Steve’s back, like he’s weaving a fairytale to lull him to sleep.

“You can rest, now,” Eddie murmurs and Steve wonders how they got here—to this place of reversed roles, “Let go. Whatever that looks like, I don’t care, okay? You’re safe. You’re safe with me.”

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