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lovebugism · 7 months

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Ok but what about Eddie dating a reader who snores and the gang is like wtf but he finds it cute.

ty for requesting anon! this is dedicated to everyone who gets sleepy at 5pm like i do hahah — eddie's girlfriend falls asleep during movie night and it's a big deal in the sweetest way (sleepy gf!reader, established relationship, 1.4k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

A masked serial killer slaughters a group of pretty teenage girls. Their screams are high-pitched and painfully artificial. The murderer’s chainsaw is way too loud and far too dramatic a weapon. The bright red blood splatters across the baby pink bedroom in several obnoxiously vivid splotches.

Eddie Munson has never been more grateful to be alive in the golden age of slasher films — the absolute peak of godawful cinema.

He turns to the pretty little thing dozing on his shoulder and grins quietly to himself.

You’re the purest essence of beauty in all forms, but especially compared to the barbaric horror flashing across the television screen across the room. In the darkness, the neon glow paints you in varying shades of blue, green, and dark red.

You’re so pretty it hurts.

Eddie didn’t think he could love anything more than dumb slasher movies. Not until he met you, anyway.

“Tired?” he whispers to you when your lashes flutter across the apples of your cheeks.

It’s hardly seven o’clock — the sun has just barely set over the horizon — and more than anything, the tiny trailer is filled with fake screams and faker blood. Most people would be too horrified to be so drowsy. Not you, though.

Everyone’s always admired your relationship with sleep, but maybe just a little extra now.

Your features are blurry with the longing of slumber. They scrunch in refusal when you shake your head, cheek rubbing against the soft cotton of Eddie’s thrifted tee. “No,” you hum with a softness that says otherwise. “‘M just cozy…”

Everyone knows what that’s code for.

All the gang was over for movie night — some more begrudgingly than others (Steve, namely). The brunette boy shares a side eye with Robin on the other side of the couch before both of them turn to look at you.

Lucas sits on the floor and stuffs his face with popcorn, which he almost chokes on when he laughs. Max giggles at the boy in response from where she’s sandwiched between him and Dustin.

Each of them can practically count down the seconds until you’re fully asleep.

You inhale once — deeply, sharply. The curly-haired boy turns his wrist to check his watch.

“7 p.m…” Dustin observes with raised brows. He nods to himself like he’s impressed. “That’s gotta be some kinda record, right?”

“I’m pretty sure she was out by six when we were at Steve’s yesterday,” Robin tells him as she leans over Lucas’ shoulder for the popcorn bowl he’s holding hostage.

“Full on snoring by six-thirty,” Steve concurs through a mouthful of candy. “And her legs were on my lap, too, so I couldn’t move for, like, two hours.”

“What about last movie night?” Max questions with pinched brows. “I’m pretty sure she was asleep before it even started.”

Lucas shakes his head. “She was just napping, right? I’m pretty sure she woke up, like, halfway through.”

Dustin nods — the official connoisseur of you and all your sleepiness. You had been asleep by the time Steve turned The Outsiders on, but your internalized love for Dallas Winston had woken you part of the way through.

“It had to be scrubbed from the records,” the boy explains like it’s something a whole lot more official than you just being tired. “It only counts if she stays asleep.”

“What if her eyes are closed, and she’s using your arm as a pillow, and you don’t have any feeling left in your fingers?” Robin questions with narrowed eyes, recounting the events from the last movie night in question. “What about that?”

“Still doesn’t count,” Dustin shakes his head with a feigned sympathy.

Eddie listens to them with a distant smile on his face. They’re not making fun of you exactly, just noticing all your little idiosyncrasies that he loves so much. It’s what makes you you — the quiet, sleepy girl that’s all but the glue of the group.

If you’re somewhere else when everyone’s all hanging out together, and not snoozing on someone’s shoulder, something just doesn’t feel right.

“Isn’t she the fuckin’ cutest?” the boy muses amidst the light-hearted banter, the horror movie long forgotten.

His bright smile and twinkling eyes are met with a group of deadpanned stares.

It isn’t because you aren’t cute, because you are. Why else would Robin and Steve let you use them as pillows even after their appendages have long gone numb? You’re like a cat sleeping on their stomach — it’s too much of an honor to wake you.

Their dumbfounded gapes are more so a result of Eddie’s adoration for you. Because you’re you, and Eddie’s… Eddie.

You’re polar opposites.

You’re quiet and sweet and gentle, and Eddie’s never been any of those things once in his life.

You’ve brought out a softer side of him — one that none of them thought a brash metalhead like him could ever have. He talks to you far sweeter and far more gently than he’d ever speak to the rest of them. Mostly because he knows you get spooked too easily and that you always wince whenever people yell. And his PDA is an innocent kind, full of held hands and forehead kisses and boops to the tip of your nose.

Eddie Munson is so soft for you that he lets you drool on his shoulder and unknowingly steal all the covers from him when you fall asleep during movie night.

He’s so far gone for you that he’ll let you drag him to bed when most people his age are heading out to party for the night — just so you can drool on him and take all the covers from him in his bedroom, where you can sleep more comfortably than on the couch.

It’s all so sweet, it’s downright disgusting.

“It’s gross how in love the two of you are,” Steve monotones, the only one brave enough to say it out loud even though they’re all thinking it.

“I know,” Eddie affirms with a wide grin. “It’s amazing, huh?”

They all grumble under their breaths about it, obviously not as mushy with adoration as he is.

It isn’t his fault they’re miserable because they don’t have their own soulmate who gets tired at 5 p.m. and snoozes on their shoulder accordingly. They’d be a lot less crabby if they had someone like you to gush about.

Not you, though. ‘Cause you’re his and everything. But someone just like you, maybe.

Everyone dissipates when the credits of the movie start to roll — either to get more food, or use the bathroom, or stretch their aching limbs.

Eddie stays unmoving. He doesn’t want to wake you up.

You begin to rouse on his shoulder, shifting as you wake with a deep inhale-exhale. Your eyes flutter slowly open, and through the haze of sleep, you notice the empty living room and the scrolling names on the television screen.

“’S the movie over?” you question, slurred with the heaviness of slumber.

Eddie nods lazily against the couch.

He’s about as tired as you are now, with his legs cocked up on the coffee table and his head lolled back against the cushions. “Yeah. It’s okay, though. You didn’t really miss anything,” he assures with a crooked smile.

“Didn’t mean to fall asleep…” you murmur, like you’re embarrassed to have slept so soundly.

“I know,” the boy hums softly to you. “’S okay…”

Your temple rests against his shoulder once more. “Wake me up before you start the next movie?” you ask when Eddie presses a lingering kiss to your hair. Your eyes are already fluttered shut again.

“Sure,” he answers, despite lacking any real intention to wake you.

He’d much rather let you sleep. He knows you need it. He doesn’t mind that you get tired before the sun has set, even though he knows how much you hate it. He couldn’t love it more, personally.

So, he lets you fall back asleep on his shoulder and tries to ignore how much it makes his heart swell. His ribcage shakes with the intensity of how much he loves you — how privileged he feels that you trust him enough to drool on his shoulder and not be embarrassed about any of it. You know he loves you too much for any of that.

“She still asleep?” Steve questions when the gang settles back in the living room. He rattles M&Ms in his palms before chucking a handful into his mouth. When Eddie nods, the boy snorts. “I’m glad it’s your arm falling asleep this time and not mine.”

Eddie’s glad for it, too.

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #event: fictober!

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carolmunson · 7 months

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you get me closer to god | kas!eddie (dark)

entry for my fall frenzy requests. this request comes in from @edsforehead: 'something with kas!eddie in a graveyard.'

a/n: y'all, i don't know. i kind of snapped with this one. sort of canon compliant. inspired by a post that i saw that said that after vampires feed they have an insatiable desire to breed afterwards. steve also makes an appearance cause i love him.

tw: 18+ MDNI, dub-con, dub-con, dub-con (reader does get into it). use of hypnosis, coercion. blood play, blood drinking, biting. very obvious power dynamics at play here. death of minor character mentioned. p in v smut, rough and sensual. oral (f-recieving), monster-type-fucking. mild chasing trope. some religious elements if you squint??? anyway i listened to closer by nine inch nails on a loop for this if you wanna know the general vibe. let me know if there is anything i missed and need to put on here!

October 31st, 1998

Your niece had a better haul than you ever did at this age, it seemed like every house on the fancy side of Hawkins was giving out full size candy bars. No one ever gave you full size candy bars. The Harrington's had outdone themselves this year, hoards of kids picking out wrapped caramel apples and passing out spiked cider to the parents. Humming and smiling while the adults hugged their parkas to their chests, kids running up and down the stairs of the cul de sac of Hawkins Mansions. Decorated to the nines -- you were happy that most of the street would tire her and all of her friends out. "Auntie!" she calls out, hurrying over to you while her pink and purple puffer coat swishes with her. Alycia glitters against the lights of the houses in the dark of the night, the red sequins on her leotard making her easy to find. Your sister-in-law made her a headband fitted with red horns with a pointed tail sewn into the back of the red tu-tu from her Spring recital to match. A Dancing Devil she called it -- for newly six, she was a pretty creative little bug.

"Auntie look," she yells, running into your legs. The spiked cider sloshes in your cup that you hold high over her head so it doesn't spill onto her. She holds up a decorated caramel apple covered in eyeballs made out of sugar.

"Gross, Leesh," you giggle, "It's got eyeballs all over it!"

"They're fake eyeballs, Auntie," she explains like you're stupid, "They're not real eyeballs."

"Oh, thank you for telling me. I didn't know," you giggle, catching Steve watching the two of you chat. Your cheeks burn, that crush from when you were fourteen and he spent the summer working at the mall never fully fading. He's married with four kids now so you should probably get over it. "How're things?" he asks from the curb, coming over to sneak Alycia a couple of Reese's cups. "They're good," you shake your head with a shrug, "They're fine. Out here with the rugrat while her mom's at work." "How's the family, your mom?" he presses, arms crossing over his broad chest that stretch the sleeves of his tan workwear jacket.

"She's doin' okay," you smile tightly, "Always a little hard for her this time of year."

"Five years now, isn't it?"

"To the day," you say with a lilt, "Gonna go visit him after I drop her with her grandparents. My dad'll be so thrilled to steal half her stash."

Your laugh is a little hollow when he squeezes your shoulder comfortingly, he slips a candy bar into your hand, too before saying his goodbyes -- set of twins running around his ankles.

Hawkin's bravest fireman somehow off duty on a night like this turns before you take your niece's hand to leave, "Be careful out there at night. You know it's not always safe."

"You don't believe in all those rumors, do you Harrington?" you laugh.

"Don't have to believe them or not," he says seriously, pushing his wire rims up his nose, "I know they're not rumors."

"Happy Halloween, Steve," you say dully, "Goodnight." You both wave, Alycia's little hand in yours while she rattles off a million words a minute about the skeloton outside of the Sinclair house. The moon glows down over the street, dark clouds slicing it like a broken plate.

You rarely visit your brother on the day of, especially since there's always idiot teenagers running around the place. Not exactly easy to mourn when some loser in a Scream mask keeps trying to scare you.

It was quiet, your Docs crunching on mid-fall frosty grass -- some of it already half dead with the season. Commotion from the town in the distance had dulled into mostly nothing now that the kids had turned in for the night. Families turning their porch lights out, settling in for scary movies and sugar highs.

You squeeze the bouquet of baby's breath and eucalyptus a little hard in your hands when you walk through the tombstones. The low lamps along the walk way casting the grass and asphalt in a looming orangey glow -- not offering much light beyond their posts. The moon does the work, still looking shattered amongst the thin gray clouds sliding through the sky.

You hear some giggling, the rustle of leaves, the snap of twigs. Always an outlier of kids doing spells or a Ouija board out here this time of year -- old Chief Hopper coming down to make them scatter and take their weed. You walk off the path when you get a decent way in, crossing away from where the cemetary mostly turns to forest. Four 'Happy Birthday To Yous' into the brush and then a left, two head stones, then a right -- it's the third headstone on the fourth row. No light to shine down on you this time, just whatever's left in the sky. You take your big yellow scarf off from around your neck to lay over the grave, giving yourself a place to sit so your spandex covered thighs didn't have to touch the grass. Your mom would kill you if you got grass stains on the red trench she let you borrow -- a makeshift Carmen Sandiego costume if anyone asked.

You sit, laying the bouquet right at the granite edge, tracing his name before letting your hand drop. You don't say anything for a while, letting the cool wet air run over you in waves. You wonder if the wind blowing is him saying hey.

A few cemetery patrons come by, pay their respects to their loved ones and leave. Some superstitious, some religious. They fade out after a while. The loneliness is comforting, just you and your brother hanging out together like before. Despite being six years apart, it felt like you both always had some weird wonder twin telepathy. He was never really one for a lot of words.

"Didn't that guy tell you not to come around here so late?"

You jump at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, turning around to see an even more unfamiliar person. Wild curly waves messy around his face, cut in 80s shag perfection. His face chiseled, jawline pronounced with soft stubble, soaked in fake blood. It trails down his neck and stains the white of the baseball tee underneath a leather jacket; fitted over top with a battle vest that rivaled the metal heads of the 70s.

"Who're you, huh? You following me?" you ask. You swallow nervously, finding solace in seeing a few other cemetary visitors mosying around. The faint giggle of more mischeif causing teenagers in the distance.

"Sorry," he laughs, a warm laugh that meets his eyes, "Didn't mean to scare you. I um, I saw you over by the cul de sac, overheard him say somethin' to you. I was with my little cousin -- dressed like a mermaid, I don't know if you remember."

You think back to Leesh's pal of trick-or-treaters, scanning them in your head to recall a little girl with big brown eyes and a makeshit Ariel costume on under her jean jacket -- covered in patches much like his.

"Yeah," you smile, "I remember. But that didn't answer my question -- are you following me?"

"Nah," he grins, shaking his head, "I'm visiting someone -- this was just a happy accident."

"Oh," you respond quietly, "Who're you visiting if you don't mind me asking."

"My mom," he shrugs, scrunching his nose, "Halloween was her favorite holiday so I always try to come say hi."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you offer in condolences, "Did you um -- did you grow up here? I feel like I'd remember you."

"Nope," he sighs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans while his wallet chain jingles next to his thigh, "Grew up with my uncle."

"Oh, nice," you nod, "Well um --"

"Who're you visiting?" he interrupts, sitting on the gravestone next to your brother's; hardware tinkling prettily as he does.

"Pete," you say, hand out to gesture towards the shiny granite in front of you, "My brother."

"Nice to meet you, Pete," he turns his head, curly hair flouncing over his shoulder, "Pleasure."

You laugh, he laughs with you -- you have to laugh about it or else you'd have to deal with the alternative. You're pretty sure you're all cried out about your brother now.

"What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He worked construction," you shrug, "Took an overnight shift five years ago by the quarry, an' it was Halloween so he was workin' by himself -- no one to spot his safety gear. Must've fallen off the rigs or something and since it rained a lot that year the quarry was basically a lake at that point, hit his head and drowned. His body was completely banged up and waterlogged, they could only ID him from his pass in his pocket."

"Shit," he nods, "That's -- that's fuckin' awful. I'm sorry."

You shrug, "Bitch of living, I guess."

"Hm," he nods, "I wouldn't know."

"What do you mean?" you ask with a cocked head, eyes lingering on him while his linger on you. "Don't worry about it," he smirks, the kind that makes your heart flutter; cheeks getting hot at the sound of his voice. "You know something," you start, "With this whole get up -- and you're not from here so you might not know -- you look just like --"

"Eddie Munson?" he asks, with raised brows, "Yeah, my aunt's been telling me that forever. That's why I sorta dressed up like him for Halloween."

"That's dangerous around Hawkins, especially this time of year," you warn him, standing up from your spot and picking up your scarf. You shake it out to get some of the grass of the underside. You hardly notice the way his eyes trail from your shoes over your calves to your thighs.

"Some people say that he went right to hell after that earthquake since he killed that girl," you explain, shrugging the trench off some to fit the scarf on under it, "And now he's a demon that haunts Hawkins and terrorizes the town."

You both laugh, though his drops to a low and guttural hum. Nearly a growl. You lift your head to see him just a foot in front of you now, and you can really look. You can really see him. The paleness in his skin, tendrilled navy veins raising through it as he leans close to you.

At this distance it's clear that the hollowness in his eyes isn't makeup, but the sparkling brown is sunken into his skull. His brows darkened and determined while he looks at you.

At this distance, it's clear that the blood on his jaw is real.

"They're close," he says with a sly smile, "Really should've listened to Harrington, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, icy sweat in a film on your body while he takes a step forward.

"Those rumors are true."

The icy air shreds your throat as you run, heaving it in and out in gasps. Your calves scream, thighs aching while you sprint through the brush of the forest; trench and scarf long forgotton somehwere amongst the trees. You try to ignore the way twigs and branches swipe at your face, slicing you and scratching you with unforgiving whips. You let out a cry while you speed, leaping over roots and piles of leaves all while trying to listen with peak percision. Is he close? Is he getting closer? Can he see you?

You stop behind a log near a dip in the earth, rocks above it. Climbing in you heave, trying to catch your breath -- you aren't really made for this. You don't know how girls in the movies can run that long without needing a break.

With a deep inhale in, you hold, using the quiet to try and hear him but there is nothing to be heard. No rustling, no creaks in the wood or in the wind.

You catch your breath, slowly creeping out of your hiding space while the darkness hones -- trees blocking out some of the moonlight. You take a step and then another, trying to make as little noise as possible.

Your efforts are of no use though -- you stomach turns at the sound. The flap of wings, leathery wings -- big. A shaky breath in gives you the courage to turn your eyes up. On one of the taller branches above you he sits, pale and domineering, "Hi, sweetheart."

You bolt again, depserate and sobbing while the cold air is no longer a hello from your brother but mother nature's cruel bite on your wet cheeks. You can barely take in breaths without pain in your throat and chest, turning left and right and left again to lose him but from above he can predict your every move.

When you hear silence again you take another turn, a mausoleum broken down a short distance away. You crawl your way in, wet earth and cement hitting your nose while you gasp and heave for the second time. You listen for the wings for moment, a few moments -- a calm washing over your back when you're sure he's gone.

You take a step back further into the darkness to be sure you're unseen. Deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth. One, twice, three times.

Another step back and you bump into a pillar making you jump, a screech wrenching from you.

Not a pillar no, not by the way a set of claw bites into your shoulder.

"Would've been a good hiding spot if it wasn't for me finding it first, right?" he quips, "Bummer." "Y-you can't d-do this," you cry, "The r-rumors are true they'll -- they'll look for me! Steve knows about you!"

"Oh, babe, that's so cute," he muses with a giggle, "Why do you think I'm still here, huh? Steve's just like me, he's bitten too."

"B-but--"

"Why do you think he believes in all those rumors, huh baby?" he asks with a lilt, "Cause he's one of 'em. Well -- not all the way, I guess. Not like me."

"He blows my cover he blows his whole operation," he grins, sharp teeth bearing themselves at you, "Why d'you think he only works night shifts?"

"I -- don't -- I don't," you sputter, "Pl-please d-don't bite me, d-don't eat me I -- I'll do whatever."

"You're too funny," he says in your ear, deep and grizzly while you're rooted to the spot under his clutch, "I already ate, sweet girl. But you'll make a fine dessert."

You don't know how you get there but it's not like home -- it is but it isn't -- dark and deadly; covered in slithering vines. You're too petrified to ask; but whatever this place was, despite the spores in the air and the rubble from the walls -- it was much nicer than the trailer he grew up in.

"Shh, shh, shh," he coos, claws deep in your shoulder while he wrenches you to a bed covered in plush linens -- satin and full. In the blur around you it could almost be a movie set; the booms of red lightening, dripping pillar candles in heaps around the room.

You whimper at first when his claws release, hot blood oozing against your sweater. The pain pulses like a dull thud, spit flooding your mouth while you move to your side to wretch but he catches you by the root of your hair. You wail in fear, smelling the decay in his breath, the sweet subtle rot of your surroundings.

"It's not polite to cause a scene in a stranger's home, right princess?" he asks with a soft lilt. He holds your gaze, warmth spreading over you when he smirks again -- and despite your fear, you can't look away. You aren't even sure if you want to look away.

Your body goes slack on the comforter, melting into itself like a dropped marionnette. "Very good," he purrs. Hazy, you feel his hands on you -- losing their warmth while they sneak under the hem of your sweater. The pads of his fingers are soft in comparison to the tips of his nails, grazing your stomach and sternum before reaching up to cup your breasts. He lets out a shallow breath, squeezing the delicate flesh softly in his palms -- so gentle despite his rough demeanor.

His thumbs graze your nipples in slow circles earning him a mewl from your dry throat.

"So easy," he giggles in a whisper. You nearly pout when his hands slide down and away from you; beginning the unhurried removal of your clothing. He moves glacially, eyes remaining on yours, wraiths of whispers in a lanuage you don't understand fluttering in the air around you -- in one ear and out the other. Part of you wants to scream and thrash while he slides off your spandex, rips the seams of your panties, destroys your socks.

His clawed hands shred your sweater, snap your bra at the straps until all your clothes are left in a heap on the dusty floorboards by a forgotten desk. He crawls over you like a predator, undressed himself now: some how bigger, more hulking than before. His shoulders are broad, muscles flexing while skin so white it's nearly blue stretches over it. Whatever is down here has completely infected him, you can see it in the color of the veins beneath his skin, the slight red in his pupils, the dark blue hues under his eyes.

His wings lift high around him in an arched half circle, tips appearing behind him like a hybrid of horns and halo at once.

"Could smell you from here," he leers, "since last night. Christ, fucking drooling over you like a kid."

You whimper again, body jolting in pain when his nails pierce your thighs when he parts them. Fresh ichor spilling from the wounds in deep sanguine and he doesn't seem to care about the mess he's making while it drips onto the sheets. His cavalier manuevering comes off as though he likes to play with his food before he eats it.

"And I don't know what it is, angel, how my senses find the right ones," he rasps while he leans forward to your blood soaked shoulder; serpent tongue slipping out to lave over it, "But you really called to me this year; think you might be the one."

"The o-one wh-what?" you sniffle. His tongue slides over the lacerations on your shoulder again, sucking slightly from the new wounds. He lets out a groan, using free hand to rest on the side of your rib cage for support.

He deatches from the well he drinks from, tip of his nose running over your decollatage and up your neck. In inhales over your jugular, pressing a wet kiss under your jaw before getting to your ear.

"The one I mate with, sweetheart," he breathes, "The one I breed."

Breed? You heart sinks like a stone into your belly, body tensing in a freeze while you think of what to do. How to get out of here.

"Wait," you gasp, arms coming up to push at his chest and push him away, "No, please, wait -- you can't."

You push and push but he's a stone pillar, he barely moves, his muscles barely push inward at your assault. He tuts, the click of his tongue between his teeth almost a chitter. He noses your cheek before looming over you, tips of your noses brushing. He catches your gaze again, the whispers start while the air blows in through the broken window. Obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo, obedire domino tuo. His lips aren't moving but you can hear his low voice in your ears, barely there, swirling around in your subconcious while the wind whispers with it. Another flash of red lightning illuminates him in a streak, the rumble of thunder vibrating your belly and chest. His hand floats up from your rib cage while you settle, cupping your cheek to slide down to your jaw and over your neck. The touch is nearly comforting, dipping you back into a haze like before.

"You were saying?" he asks.

"Hm?" your brows pinch, his voice muffled and far away.

"That's what I thought," he says smugly, head dipping back down to your neck where his lips drag over your delicate skin. His breath leaves a patch of wet heat that lingers when he moves down over your chest, fangs peeking out behind his full lips when he drags them over the swell of your left breast.

A gentle gasp escapes you, eyes fluttering closed when the tip of his tongue teases your pert nipple, blowing cool air against it once soaked with his spit. He flicks against it again, alternating sides, presses kisses over them in clear ownership. The more he tasted of you, the more it belonged to him.

With each touch and tease of your tits the more you gasp and whine beneath him, he chuckles from his belly, moving down to your sternum.

"And I died a virgin, can you believe it?" he asks with a cocky lift to one of his brows, "Now all I gotta do is smile and girls like you 'll just fall into bed with me."

There's cotton in your ears, all you can do is nod slowly while blood still leaks from your shoulder and thighs. All you can feel is his mouth and hands travel further and further down. The wind howls and the low chant in the back of your head changes tune but in the same cadence; over and over again: vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

He licks a stripe up the back of your thigh to catch a bead of blood before it reaches the mattress, savoring you. He feeds from the gouges he left behind for a moment before inching forward to the apex of your thighs. Eddie inhales your scent deeply, the earthly musk of you making his mouth water in a mix of metal and spit. His nose brushes against the untrimmed hair of your mound, ghosting himself over it drunk with attraction.

Your body heats up with mild embarrassment, flexing while your hips writhe slightly underhim. Almost as if he can hear your thoughts he kisses the crease of your thigh, "Nothing to be embarrassed about, baby. Girls don't let it grow like this anymore n' it's such a shame."

You want to speak up and explain it's just 'cause you haven't had the time but your tongue doesn't know how to move anymore. Too tired to speak, too caught up in how he feels, how he touches, how he takes what he wants. You relent again, body relaxing; pliant while he spreads you apart for him a desperate moan pulling from you when his tongue -- still soaked in your blood -- glides from the pool of slick at your opening all the way up to your clit.

You almost gag at the way your body betrays you, sending a spread of electricity over your nerves from your core to your finger tips. "More," you whisper, not even believing you're begging for him, "Please, more."

Eddie's smug in his response, smiling with his eyes while he looks up at you from between your legs, "And good manners? You spoil me, princess."

Your back arches in a soft curve when your hips push back into the mattress, pressing yourself into his waiting mouth. He groans again when your body drips for him, leaving a damp sheen on his cheeks and chin. It's not about your pleasure despite how much of it he's bringing you, but about your consumption. He's devouring you. Licking his plate clean from the outside in.

The moans he takes from you spur him on, getting you further and further away from the fight you put up before. Spilling over for him like a puddle while you writhe, a hand reaching out to rake through his hair. His own reaches up from aroud your thigh to hold you by the wrist tight to your side.

"Hands to yourself," he murmrs, soft lips wrapping around your swollen clit to suck expertly on the bud. You whimper, tugging at his hold but it only makes his grip more intense, pinning you there without much a fight. Not even enough to distract him from the task at hand.

When his tongue sinks back down into your soaking core you feel it, the heat pulsing through your belly while he lets the muscle dip and swirl in your wetness. Your thighs twitch and shake when his nose bumps your sensitive clit, his free hand coming up to gingerly rub circles over it in tandem.

"Oh my god," you whine, "Oh my god -- K-kas don' -- oh my god, ohmygod." He snickers, contining his movements, murmuring a quiet, "God's not here, baby."

Another roll over your hips sends you reeling, his tongue gliding in long strokes when finally the coil in your belly snaps. You fall apart beneath him, loud moans and high pitched squeals while he consumes you through it. Your body vibrates, thighs clamping down over his ears, blood from the slices in your flesh staining his hair and jaw.

He hums low when you settle, gasping for breath on your already dry and scratchy throat while you come down.

Eddie rises slowly, shoulder blades and wings moving with him while he crawls up your body. Smooth and languid like a snake, his torso hovers above yours while he settles his hips between your thighs. You look up at him, his shape, the way his eyes have blown black, the newfound sharpness in his features. A creature, a monster in your wake — not the same person you saw at the cemetery.

“Oh,” he coos when he sees your eyes glassy and rounded upon him, “So precious.”

You're much weaker now, mind and body, the stings across your skin from the broken branches and his sharpened nails a pain you've become better accquainted with. You take another breath of calm, arms resting by your head with your palms up towards the ceiling. He takes the moment of surrender to hold them down against the bed. The pressure of his hips against yours keeps you pinned, but you barely fight -- maybe squirm, maybe whine. No thrashing, no screaming, the whispers echo through the wind again:

Vis, sentis, obedis. Vis, sentis, obedis.

"So, so, precious," he whispers while he leans forward, kisses pressed to one cheek and then the other slow and controlled. He inhales again when he dips down to your neck, piercing fangs dragging over the vein there. You feel the push and then the pain, the unbearable blinding pain of his teeth ripping through you. Through your skin, through the muscle, the pulse of his mouth while he holds himself there.

You cry out, nearly a scream while he holds himself there -- just enough to infect you, just enough to get the poison in. The pain reaches a blinding peak, bile growing up your throat, eyes filling with a white hot surge of anguish and then -- Nothing. Euphoria. An unknown lightness you hadn't felt before.

He releases, still holding tight to your wrists above your head when he raises up over you again.

"Open," he instructs, and in your hazy gaze you obey. Your tongue flattens against your chin without command.

"Very good, sweetheart," he praises, collecting the blood left on his lips and in his cheeks to spit it directly into your waiting mouth.

"You can close now," he grins, "And swallow."

He grunts, hips sliding against you so that you can feel his length between your legs; the girth alone sends a chill to the part of you that is screaming inside your head. How is it supposed to fit? How is he supposed to get this inside you? "Don't worry," he laughs, "It'll fit."

When your vision snaps up at him he laughs again, "I can hear you in there, princess. I can always hear you."

He dips down again, tip of his nose sliding over your cheek to your ear, "So be very careful what you think about."

He doesn't need his hands to guide the head of himself into your already needy center. It's a stretch, delicious but nearing painful. It's not something you've ever even dreamed of taking before; thick, large, inhuman.

Your legs lift on their own accord while he pushes in further, getting half way while you let out a choked sob.

"Aw, shh, shh, shh," he mocks, easing in more, "C'mon you can take it."

"You can --" his hips snap in hard for the rest of him, letting out a ragged grunt when the rest of him disappears inside you, "--take it."

You mouth hangs open in a desperate oval, face crumpling when you become so full of him -- all encompassing. A part of you now, buried deep within. He moves, dangerously slow and controlled; methodic in how he thrusts himself deeper and deeper inside. "Mmm, that's it," he growls, chest to chest with him while his hip grind at a deliberate pace. You feel his hot breath fan out over your lips, forehead pressed against yours. He's not hot, he's not cold, just skin against yours while it flashes with heat. You go from shaking to sweating with minutes in between.

When your hips roll to meet his thrusts you moan, the tip hitting you so deep in your core that stars burst behind your eyes. "There we go," he grins mischeviously, "S'at feel good, pet?"

"Ooh, yes," you hiss through gritted teeth, actively trying to bounce yourself againsth him now that your body has started accommodating his sheer size. He raises himself up on his hands like a cobra, snake like peering down at you while he meets the roll of your hips with an unforgiving thrust.

"Good," he oozes the word out like smoke, deliciosly deep seated in his belly when he thrusts hard again. He mumbles a quiet musing to himself that you can't hear -- too gone in the lightness in your body, in the way nothing hurts, in the way you're so full.

Can finally fuck you how I wanna.

He gets up, sitting back on his haunches while still inside you, pushing your legs up so your knees end up by your ears. With this leverage he sinks in deep. You don't even know how far in he is, just that he's in and he's there, he's everywehre, he's outside and in.

Eddie locks eyes with you, that same smirk from the cemetary that made your stomach flip dancing across his devilish features, "Tell me you like it."

Your mouth moves before your brain can hesitate, "I like it." "Tell me you need it," he demands, tone measured and sure.

"I need it," you say back, your voice coming out broken and weak, "Please, I need it."

He pulls back and punches forward, hard enough that you gasp at the impact. He grips you hard by the backs of your legs, thrusts starting slow and building at an unrelenting pace. His eyes are wild; boring down at you through from under furrowed and determined brows. If you had any mind left, you'd think that he hates you by the way he stares.

"Fuck," he snarls, leaning forward over you, one hand pressing down on the mattress next to your head, "Shit -- fuck, that's it. That's fuckin' -- shit, you're fuckin' mine." "Say you need me."

"I need you," you choke back without thinking, barely able to breathe at his speed. The coil tightens deep inside of you again, tears pouring down your cheeks in waves -- not even crying, just recieving. Absorbing him. Your body rocks like a boat on unsteady waves pinned beneath him, the only sounds are the whispers in your subconcious, his growls and sputters like an animal above you. The lewd slaps of skin against skin, the squelches of him pushing you to your limits.

He steadies himself over you, nose to nose again while he fucks you. Really fucks you. Impressed with himself, he lets out a breathy chuckle when you throw your head back -- eyes shutting tight with a pornographic scream.

"Oh GOD!" you cry out, "Oh my god."

His fingers and claws catch your chin with a firm shake, eyes snapping open to meet the knowing glare of his ruddy brown ones.

"Your god," he starts, panting into your mouth, "is right here in front of you."

You swallow, mouth falling agape again when you feel the bite of his nails on the fat of your cheeks. "Right here," you repeat, dazed and overwhelmed, "N'..n'fronname."

"Right here in front of you," he nods, leaning down to brush his nose against yours while his thrusts slow to a steady pace. It's then that his lips meet yours, the kiss searing with desire and claim when his tongue slides into your mouth. You can taste the metallic twang of your blood in his mouth, sighing into it while he guides the kiss. Breaking away and coming back in; rushed and heated each time while he feels himself get closer to his peak.

His forehead presses against yours, one hand finally releasing your wrist to hold your head in place over your hair. You keep eye contact with him, not even sure if you're blinking, if you even need to blink. You rasp breaths, mouth and throat dry and aching while you breathe into him. You're close, teetering on the edge while he pushes you up with his hips to rest your lower body on his knees and thighs.

"Come undone," he murmurs, "Let go for me."

The command ripples through you, bursting through your belly with a warm heat. You welcome it, eyes rolling, cries pouring from you in words you don't think you understand. He encourages you, offering you rough sweet nothings while you pray to him, beg for him, ache for him.

That's enough to send him over; seeing you completely at his mercy now. Obedient, trained, devoured.

He snares and snarls, growling while he comes deep inside of you. The hand on your head wraps painfully in your hair like it did before you started -- uncaring, brutal. The heat of his seed pools deep within you like the heart of your orgasm. Glazed over you groan, hips rolling up in one final cant to receive him fully. Your vision vingettes while he unsheathes from you; fluids leaking onto the sheets. You're empty and the room spins with a new blackness, you're fading. Fainting? Dying?

The fuzziness continues to darken arouns you, around him, until he's all that's left in the tunnel of your vision. "That's a good girl," he soothes smugly, "Very well done."

Your gaze and mind fade fully to a staticky black.

You wake, you’re not sure how much later.

Still on the bed and still undressed but your arms feel tight – a tug reveals your current state. Bound to a post on the headboard by a triple handcuff knot, dense hemp rope keeping your arms above your head.

You whine and struggle, coming to your senses now – no one knows where you are, you barely know where you are. An underworld – hell. Somewhere.

“Don’t look so terrified, sweetheart,” his smooth honey voice is heard before he appears in the candle light again, “I’m right here.”

“Wh-why am I –” you swallow thickly, coughing and sputtering with how dry your mouth and throat are now, “Why am I tied up?”

He looks at you with faux concern, brows raising, “Oh honey, are you okay?”

He reaches out, pushing your hair away from your face, “Don’t be stressed. Y’know something – I just realized, I never offered you anything to drink.”

“My uncle always told me you should take a girl out to dinner before makin’ the van rock and look at me,” he gestures at his chest, tutting at himself, “Where are my manners, huh?”

Your lip wobbles while he looms over you, “Are you thirsty?”

You nod, he grins – cheshire like, fangs glinting in the light, “I thought you would be.” He gets up, lazy and confident in his walk across the room. His body looks like marble, chiseled with the running and hunting you realize he’s been doing for over a decade. Stronger than ever; ethereal in his post orgasm glow.

He pulls his hair back while he walks, holding it up away from his neck while your eyes travel down his back where his wings have tucked in under the skin. You gag when you see them move above his blades, rippling beneath the tattoos he has there. He’s dressed in only shorts; silk – likely stolen to really own the whole vampire thing he has going on.

You take in a shaky breath when he gets what he needs, dropping his hair back to his shoulders when he makes his way back to you.

He holds the dagger coolly in his hand before gliding the tip down the center of his wrist. Blood blooms from the wound; he doesn’t even flinch.

“Open, princess,” he murmurs. Your lips clamp shut, shaking your head no while fear takes over – rot in your chest. He catches your chin again, forcing you to look at him like before.

“Open,” he repeats, slower. His voice reverberates like a gong between your ears.

Your mouth opens on its own accord and the smell of his blood becomes the most alluring scent you’ve had pass your nose in years. You latch on to the laceration, swallowing and sucking deeply on the wound while his blood and body quench and feed you better than any meal you think you’ve ever had. You feel revived as you devour him, eyes fluttering closed while the fill feels never enough.

“That’s it, keep goin’,” he encourages under his breath, “Won’t have to keep asking you to do things twice once this is all over with.”

You break away to breathe, gasping like you’re coming up for air, drowning in him.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you’ll be just like me, sweetheart,” he says, chuckling when you eagerly lean forward to drink him again, “After a night of some deeply insurmountable pain; and then nothing. Just mine. Undead and mine.”

“But y–you said you were – I’m –” your brows knit in confusion, “You didn’t h-have to d-do this; whatever you um – whatever you bred me with will die if you do this.”

“Oh, no, no,” he laughs evilly, “I didn’t breed you quite yet.”

He pulls his arm away, wiping the blood from your chin with his thumb roughly.

“Consider what we did a, uh…hmm,” he takes a second to think about it with a hum, shrugging cheekily, “A soul bonding experience.”

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

“I’m delicious,” he corrects, smearing his blood from your chin to your cheek, “If you do say so yourself.”

He gets up again, pulling the covers out from under you to tuck you in. The chill getting to you in a way it never gets to him; you might as well be warm while you turn into actualized death.

“I can hear you, remember?” he asks, tapping your head, “You won’t be totally alone with me. There’s…shit there are plenty just like us.”

“Like Steve,” you pipe up groggily.

“More than just goodie two-shoes Harrington,” he groans, “God, do you ever shut up about him?”

You sniffle in response.

“I mean this place, this – dimension,” he says, “It’s more than just Hawkins, and there are so many more like us; even up there.”

He points upwards with a sharp nailed finger, “All around.”

“And now that you’ll be just like me,” he smiles, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you in the crook of you waist, “There’ll be all the time in the world to breed you.”

Your vision blurs, either from tears or from another fade, you aren’t sure. You can feel a slow burn through your veins, a rush of blood. You whimper.

“So it begins,” he smirks, running the tip of his finger over your nose bridge.

“Oh!” he says, eyes bulging, “Before I forget, and before I lose you – because you’ll be such a pretty blank slate when you come to – I felt like I should be honest.”

He gestures dramatically, a maniacal grin pushing his cheeks up to his eyes while they spark, “Again with my manners, it was so rude of me to introduce myself to Pete’s grave at the cemetery. We’ve met before! Can’t believe I had almost forgotten.”

Ice in your body fights the burning in your veins, you gag, bile coming up to singe your throat.

“And y’know, I didn’t mean to drop him in the quarry when I was done with him,” he says with a scrunch of his nose, like he accidentally wrote the wrong tip on a restaurant check, “Really, my mistake, but Christ did he hit every piece of limestone on the way down.”

He lets out a hearty laugh while he remembers it, your brother's body bouncing off rocks and metal before slipping under the water. You swallow your sick only or it to rise back up with a vengeance, staining your skin red while it seeps out of the corner of your mouth. You tug on the ropes in retaliation, hot angry tears stinging your eyes.

“All that fallin’ did a number on him – which is good because it really took the heat of anyone knowing it was me. I just wasn't as clean about it back then. Much better now though,” he nods, finishing with a superior and charming look like he just told a bedtime story.

He leans forward close to your face while your vision pulses in fuzzy black, browning out while he looks down at you.

“And I’ll tell you something, babe…”

Fading, fading, fading.

“He tasted divine.”

masterlist | fall frenzy | ko-fi

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #kas!eddie #kas!eddie munson #vampire!eddie munson #vampire!eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fan fiction #tw: dubcon #tw: dub-con #dark!eddie #dark!eddie munson

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neopuppy · 26 days

Note

first, jeno with a mouth fixation. secondly, jeno with a fixation on your mouth but...well, you reject him each time he's made a move on you...that is...until you can't reject him anymore. how does that come to be? idk. but he knows how to get what he wants i'm sure. (you know how to make him get what he wants)

“Pay attention.”

Jeno blinks furiously, sitting up and wiping his chin of imaginary drool. It’s only about the fifth time you’ve scolded him, or maybe the sixth, who's counting.

Right. Pay attention.

“This final counts for half of your grade.” You remind him, peering up from behind your glasses. “Are you even listening?”

No. Jeno hasn’t listened once throughout the duration of this semester. He gave up the first day of class when he saw you chewing on the end of your pen, tapping it against your lips as you followed along with the professor’s introduction.

It seemed to only worsen from there, pens turned to your pinky finger, dragging the nail between your teeth. Hard candies that you’d suck on and hold between your teeth, lightly licking the sugar coating off to make the treat last longer.

That gave him the idea to approach you, finally finding an excuse after receiving his first graded test, not even bothered by the bold ‘D’ circled at the top.

‘These are for you.’ He said flatly, setting a bag of caramel apple suckers on your desk.

‘Huh? Wait, I love these..’ you mumbled, picking up the bag full of 60 suckers. ‘But how—‘

He shrugged, turning around to make way to his seat without another word. Not bothering to explain that he’d noticed the pattern in flavors you always seemed to have stockpiled inside your hidden candy drawer.

Without fail one of those lollipops would end up in your mouth a few times per week as you took notes and graded assignments. Swapping between drinks of water from your overpriced adult sippy cup, biting on the straw attached to your iced coffee, scouring through your drawer after an hour of lectures to find a treat to wake yourself up. Somehow your lipgloss managed to stay intact through it all, making Jeno’s fingers twitch as he grasped onto the edges of his desk.

It’s not only how perfectly juicy your lips look sucking around various objects, but how obscene they hang open when you’re thinking too hard, casually tucking your bottom lip in under your teeth. The meat filling your bottom lip sinking in as you bite down harder, raising the beat of his heart to pump faster through his veins.

At this point he looks forward to another disappointed frown dragging your pretty mouth down when you place another failed test on his desk. He shrugs and smiles, mentioning by the third fail that he may need extra help, assistance if you have the time for him.

Each time you coin up some excuse, too busy for study sessions. He needs to learn to study on his own, teacher assistants are not tutors.

But the day he presents you a gift card for your favorite coffee shop, you begin to relent, smiling softly as you refuse to accept bribery. He didn’t stop there of course, opting to learn your order and show up a few minutes earlier to have everything set out on your desk. Even throwing in a pastry that you munched on once getting halfway into your coffee, tearing off small pieces to chew on which he thoroughly enjoyed.

The next upside test you hand him had an extra note to meet after class.

Finally.

Only now that he’s alone with you, it’s even worse. Hyper fixated on your lips moving as you explain the subject he’d just failed, a big fat F on his test that he could really give a shit about right now.

“Jeno, it wasn’t easy to get this room at the last minute.” You sigh, waving a yawn away. “You seriously need to turn around your grade, at this rate you’ll never pass.”

He hums, agreeing with you, digging into his bag for a sucker. “I don’t work well like this, the pressure,” unwrapping the candy, he drags its dry coating across his lip, slowly blinking at you. “With no incentive—“

“The incentive is your grade.” You interrupt, snatching the lollipop away from him before he can pop it into his mouth. “You need to focus.”

“Make me then.” He shrugs, wrapping a firm hold on your retreating wrist. “That’s mine.”

“Fine.” You scowl, shaking him off. “Finish this practice quiz and I’ll give you your candy back.”

He has to hide a smirk when you raise it to your mouth, eyebrow cocked. “You get more than half wrong and it’ll be mine.”

“Keep it.” He says, leaning over the desk. “In fact.. I’d love to see you try and take it from me.”

Quickly clutching your wrist, he draws your balled up fist back toward his mouth, the lollipop stuck between your fingers. “Get it back from me, and I’ll pass whatever test you throw my way.” He finishes, lips sucking around the candy, sleek gaze burning into yours.

“Want it?” He says between slow, long licks. Grip staying tight on you.

“Let go of me.” You grit, jerking away without budge. “This isn’t proper behavior between students and teachers.”

“You’re not my teacher.” He corrects, sucking the lollipop to one side. “But you want me to pass right? Because if I don’t..”

Trailing his free hand up your arm, he glides past your shoulder and throat, pinching your chin roughly. “I’ll have to repeat next semester when you take over. And I’ll make sure to show up everyday, miss every assignment, fail each and every test.”

“Why—“

“Because,” he tugs the lollipop free, pressing the saliva coated sucker to your pursed lips. “I want you to open up that pretty mouth.” Digging in his fingers, he forces your jaw to unhinge. Whimpering as he invades your tongue and drags the sucked on lollipop down the middle.

“So good at using your tongue, aren’t you?” He jeers, tapping the roof of your mouth with the lollipop until you gag around nothing. “Be good, push those pretty lips together.”

Shaking his ruthless grip on your jaw, he pulls harder until your neck cracks and you cough from the stimulation against your tongue. Lips wrapping shut around the stick.

“Very good.” But not enough. He stands abruptly, chair scraping nastily across the floor. Without losing any tension clenching your jaw and chin, he pulls the corners of your lips open. Thumbs piercing past the seam to watch your tongue struggle to not swallow down the lollipop. Saliva spurting out and running down your chin as he licks at his lips.

Yes. Very good.

“But I want more.” He whispers, thumbs deeping in to push your cheeks open from inside out.

“Pl-please.” You gurgle, moist eyes blinking up at him.

Ignoring your pleads, his fingers drag out, smearing drool down your cheeks and chin. The lollipop stem hangs between your pouty abused lip, covered in slick spit. “This won’t do.” He chuckles, dragging it free from your lips and returning the lollipop to his mouth.

Fingers dig back into your cheeks to keep your head in place, dragging a thick rubbery plastic from his bag. “You can do better.”

#asks #nct hard hours #nct dream hard hours #nct smut

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betterbooktitles · 3 months

Text

"I’m certain I’m not the only millennial who feels we as a nation have taken a dizzying turn when it comes to drugs. I remember a uniformed police officer showing up once a week in 5th Grade (a year before Sex Ed) to explain how to avoid buying and taking drugs. Luckily, I already knew the dangers of the drug trade because I had seen The Usual Suspects. I knew cocaine was a bad thing to buy, sell, or steal, especially from a drug kingpin. The D.A.R.E. program, however, let me know how important it was to say no to anything fun, including alcohol. At least until I understood a little algebra first. We did role-playing exercises where we walked one by one toward the portly police officer and he casually asked if we wanted to hit a mimed joint with him. All we had to do was say “no” and walk to the other side of the room, defying the only rule I knew about improv. We wrote essays about how important it was to preserve our pristine bodies and minds, obviously unsullied since we had yet to take the class teaching us how puberty was going to defile them both. I’m still mad that my friend Nicole’s essay beat mine in a contest, and she got to read hers in front of the whole school all because she had the benefit of an older brother who took too much acid and sat in her room all night talking about why the existence of light proved God was real. My essay about a time I saw my friend’s dad drink a beer and then drive his truck somewhere was also good! We signed pledges to enter the new millennium drug-free. We took the red pencils that said “Friends Don’t Let Friends Do Drugs” and sharpened all of them down to say “Let Friends Do Drugs,” “Friends Do Drugs,” “Do Drugs,” and simply “Drugs.” Despite that little rebellious act, my friends and I spent a solid six months swearing we’d never put any harmful substance into our bodies besides every form of candy available.

Imagine how I feel now as a D.A.R.E. graduate becoming my dad’s drug dealer. It’s less thrilling than I thought it would be. Between my father’s warning not to hang around one specific neighborhood in Cleveland as a kid and nearly every TV show about drugs, I thought I’d always be buying marijuana from an intimidating dude who definitely had a gun and would use it immediately if he thought I was wearing a wire. Instead, I now buy marijuana from a well-lit storefront that looks like the Apple Store. I’ve even gone to a place where a guy with an iPad explained what each available strain would do to me. I buy what sounds good with all the confidence of a man pointing at items on a menu written in a language he can’t read. I put it all in a cardboard box. I place a book on top. I mail the box to my dad from my local post office. I tell myself the book is to hide the contraband crossing state lines, but in truth, the book is what clears my conscience. I want to send my dad something edifying while also sending him the drug that all of America worried would make me unable to read if I tried it once. The unrequested book is a red herring to distract from the vice, like when you were young and didn’t want to buy condoms outright at the store so you cushioned them between a pack of peanut M&Ms and a magazine. Hmm, what else did I need, — right, while I’m here — might as well pick up a few condoms.

Right as marijuana becomes legal in most states, I’m about done with the drug. I’ve had three good times on edibles, and one of them was when I felt nothing and fell asleep at 9:30 PM. I’m flabbergasted that my dad likes edibles. He seems to be a man free of anxiety. Case in point, I once brought him some THC lozenges to our summer holiday in Chautauqua, and around dinner time I told him “You might want to only take half of what I gave you” to which he replied, “I took it hours ago.” He was stoned and no one noticed.

While I’m stuck in my head, stoned or sober, wondering why I didn’t take some acting gig 15 years ago, wondering if I’ll ever make enough money, worrying I’m doing everything wrong including in this moment as I write this sentence, my dad is enjoying himself.

Judith Grisel, the author of Never Enough: The Neuroscience And Experience of Addiction, describes using marijuana as throwing “a bucket of red paint” on your brain. She was approaching the stimulant clinically in terms of how it differed from the laser focus of other drugs (THC reacts with many receptors in the brain, cocaine focuses on one), but now every time I smoke, I think of the red paint metaphor. While other people seem able to crank an entire joint and do insanely complicated stuff like function at their jobs, I am reduced to a gelatinous blob, on top of which my eyes and brain are navigating a dream state that, like many dreams, isn’t all that interesting the next day. Mostly, I get high and can’t decide what I want to watch on TV or what video game I want to play, I realize how hungry I am, and then I fall asleep with cereal still stuck to my teeth. Pot, for me, is like the squid ink hitting the screen in Mario Kart: I can still see where I’m going, but everything gets a little harder to do, and the panicked half-blindness makes everything slightly more chaotically fun."

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Other articles include:

An essay on Claire Dederer's book Monsters and movies made by monsters.

Writing inside a Toyota Service Center.

Writing mistresses.

#writing #essay #essays #lit #literary #funny #lol #drugs #books #humor #reading #better book titles #dan wilbur #bibliophile #pot #d.a.r.e #just say no #comedy

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justauthoring · 3 months

Text

too early.

you wanted him to live a long life, even if that meant without you

a/n: whos ready for some angstttt woop woop!

tw: minor spoilers for the manga(?), death

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

“Satoru.”

“I know.”

with barely concealed tears, you glance up at him through blurred vision. your shoulders feel heavy, and your heart hurts and Gojo knows that—of course he knows. Yet, there isn’t a single thing he can do.

He can’t change what’s happened.

“I didn't want you here.”

And he just smiles. in that way that Gojo always has. It’s bright, despite the darkness that swallows you both, and it’s genuine as his eyes sparkle down at you. He smiles even as everything hurts, even as everything else is nothing but a cold, dark space that you’ll never leave and now, neither will he.

“But I'm here.”

Biting your lip, you step towards him.

“You’re insufferable.”

“I know.”

“And annoying.”

“Yup.”

“And you never know when to shut up.”

“But…” and he pauses for effect, face in yours so you can’t look away as his bright (and unfortunately, beautiful) eyes stare back at you with a twinkle of mischief. He’s leaning to meet your height, and he’s grinning far and wide, lips stretched out as he barely contains his own enjoyment. “You love me.”

And, regrettably, you do.

Rolling your eyes, you press a hand to his cheek, pushing him away as you groan.

“As if.”

The words are a blatant lie and both of you know that.

But you’re not ready to admit yet that your feelings for your fellow classmate are anything other than platonic. You think, maybe, hopefully, he isn’t either.

(He isn’t).

So, you’ll continue to deny it. Feign annoyance and disgust when really your heart beats madly within your chest, showing no sign of stopping anytime soon, and your cheeks burn, dusted rose across the apples of your cheeks. It’s all there, plain to see, but you plead obliviousness and Gojo does the same.

Obliging to you, he steps back, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, more to himself than anyone. “As if.”

“Do you remember the first time we met?”

Blinking, you turn to Gojo. “You mean when you laughed at me… to my face.”

Frowning, Gojo shakes his head; “that is not what happened.”

“That is in fact what happened,” you correct, shaking your head at him. He’s sitting in front of you, sitting the wrong way on a chair as he leans on the corner of one of the legs dangerously (and you swear he will end up falling soon). You’d been trying to catch up on some homework when Gojo had found you in the empty classroom and had promptly decided you were to occupy him for the time being.

(Geto was out on a mission).

But, he’s brought with him some candy and even if he whined every time you did, you still proceeded to invite yourself to a couple gummies every once in a while.

So, his annoyance is forgivable.

(And really, you don’t mind, if you’re being honest.)

“I introduced myself to you, you took one look at me, called me ‘weak’ and laughed.” You explain, sending him a deadpanned look.

Gojo continues to stare back at you like you’re lying (the audacity), before he blinks, as if thinking back. The grin on his face falters somewhat as the memory resurfaces, and he blinks back at you, looking oddly apologetic.

Not a look Gojo wears very often.

“Well, I take it back.”

You’re halfway through stealing one of his gummies when you pause, hand left stretched out before you as you stare back at him.

“What?”

“You’re not weak,” he shrugs, “and I shouldn’t have laughed at you. Obviously, I’m still stronger than you,” you roll your eyes, “but I take it back.”

Raising a brow, you squint at him. “Are you trying to apologize?”

“Maybe?”

“The answer is yes or no, Gojo.”

“...Yes.”

It’s more honest than you’re expecting. If you’re being truthful, this whole conversation is not what you’d expected at all.

But still, he’s apologizing, in his own way, and he seems to mean it. It didn’t really bother you all that much all that more–it was a long time ago and Gojo was just like that, though you’ll admit he’s lessened his smugness a little bit through the time you’ve known him. At least when he’s with you, he does, and he doesn’t make you feel like a infuriable piece of trash next to him, so, you know, he’s making the right steps.

(All the right steps).

“Well,” you settle on eventually, grabbing your gummies. “Apology accepted.”

And really, his grin is bright enough to forget that his apology was pretty lousy.

“Ow.”

“It’s not my fault you got hurt.”

Pouting, you turn away from Gojo, not wanting to look at his face currently because if you have to see his smirk one more time you swear you’re going to strangle him—

“Lift your arm,” he’s calling, a hand wrapping around your wrist to guide the motion. Your lips part at the touch, hating the flutter of nerves that hits you, letting your head rest in your other hand as you listen to him, lifting your arm, and letting him move it until it’s resting on his shoulder.

You stare back at him then.

“You should’ve let me come with you.”

Huffing, you roll your eyes. “I thought you said I’m not weak.”

“You’re not,” he says plainly, pulling at your shirt to place the bandage at your side. Your cheeks warm when you realize he’s seeing skin he’s never seen before, swallowing thickly at the feeling of his fingers ghosting across sensitive skin. It’s enough to pull goosebumps, and you hope he doesn’t notice them.

(He does).

“I’m just the strongest.”

Shoulders falling, you decide to watch him. “It’s not that bad.”

“You’re bleeding.”

“That’s why I said I should find Shoko.”

“She’s not here.”

“Oh.”

(She is–Gojo wants to take care of you).

“Still,” you say after a moment, “it doesn’t hurt.”

He glares at you. “You were hissing not a minute ago.”

“That’s cause you pressed on it!” You argue, shifting in your seat as you ignore his heavy gaze. “You’re very heavy-handed, I’ll have you know. And no skill in cleaning wounds either. I swear, it hurts more now then it did before so–”

You stop rambling when you realize he’s finished patching the wound and is simply staring at you.

“So… yeah,” you finish lamely.

(You can’t think all that well when he looks at you like that).

“Don’t push yourself too hard,” he says after a moment. His voice is oddly serious in a way it rarely is with Gojo. Though, it feels like recently, Gojo sounds more worried and serious with you than he had before.

You don’t want to think about what that could mean.

(You don’t want to get your hopes up).

“You shouldn’t go on missions where you’ll get hurt.”

“It’s my job, Gojo.” You remind, “I don’t have much of a choice.”

“You do,” he says sharply. “I’ll make it so.”

Licking your lip, you stare at the worry in his eyes. Gojo was very rarely expressive in his emotions and you’ve come to learn that he often hid the way he really felt; but sometimes it felt like you were the only one who really saw how he felt. Because he’d look at you like this, with a furrow in his brow and concern in his gaze and it’d leave you stunned.

Stunned in the way you couldn’t speak.

“Okay,” you whisper, forcing the words out because that’s what you settle on. That’s all you can settle on. “I won’t.”

“Gojo–!”

His back is turned to you, shoulders tensed, his hands clenched by his sides. Whatever you’d been about to say dies on the tip of your tongue because what do you say?

How could you ever say something that would be enough to fix what’s happened?

But still, you want to try. You can’t just leave it alone. Not after what had happened. You couldn’t even begin to think how he must be feeling, the confusion and hurt and rage that must be flooding through him.

And if you could in any way soothe that, you had to try.

(Little did you know, you’d done just that the second you’d called for him).

“I’m…” You hesitate, stepping towards him with a hand stretched out uselessly before him. Even if you wanted to touch him, you couldn’t–not with his infinity… “I’m so sorry.”

Gojo stays still. The slight rise and fall of his shoulders as he takes even shallow breaths is the only inclination that he’s alive and breathing and listening.

“I heard about… about Geto–I was called away on a mission so I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier,” you explain, your words rambling as you try to sort through the chaos of thoughts in your mind. You’d never had to comfort Gojo before–did he even want to be comforted? Did he want to be comforted by you?

You doubted it.

(He did).

“I’m so sorry.”

And you truly are even if the words mean nothing to him. Even if he doesn’t care that you’re sorry.

You still are.

You blink, eyes falling to your feet, and you’re starting to think you should just leave. Gojo clearly didn’t want you there or to hear you ramble, and it was silly of you to think that you of all people would be able to help someone like him.

Then, there are arms wrapping around your shoulders and you’re pressed flush against a strong chest.

“Gojo–”

He just shakes his head, holding you tighter and understanding, you close your mouth, letting the words you’d been about to say die out.

Because Gojo didn’t want you to speak and he surely didn’t want to either. It was easier to be silent but better to be silent with you. You made it all a little more bearable and if he was honest with himself, you always had.

He just hadn’t known how much until now.

So, instead, you let yourself ease, moving to wrap your arms around him in return, and his head is moving to cradle into the crook of your neck, his nose pressed against the skin as he lets out the faintest, softest, shuddering breath.

You move to press a hand against the back of his head, and squeeze in the hopes it helps even just a little (—it does and more).

“Can I just–fuck it.”

Before you can even realize, his lips are pressed against your own.

Warm, soft lips against yours, his hands finding purchase on your waist as you tense at the contact, stunned, your brain lagging as you try to process what’s happening. A second ago Gojo had been chatting your ear off as normal, the two of you alone in your dorm as you often found yourselves now, because Shoko rarely had time now because of her role in Jujutsu High and Geto… well, Geto just wasn’t there.

Gojo was busy too. Really busy. And you were too. Maybe not as much, but in your own way.

Gojo made sure any free time he did have was spent with you though. You return the sentiment with ease.

It felt natural, after all.

And yeah, maybe you’d admit the two of you had been dancing around these feelings for a long time. You can’t count on both hands the amount of times Shoko has begged you to just kiss the man already if you were going to make love eyes at him all the time (her words).

There were other instances too, but they were too painful to remember.

You’d known for a long time the way you felt about Gojo, but you didn’t want to mess up what the two of you had. And that had been at first, before it had developed into this comraderie you only could find in him—and you definitely didn’t wanna mess that up by letting your emotions get in the way. So, you just… didn’t. It was comfortable, this bond the two of you had developed and the idea of losing that was too heartbreaking.

Chances were scary when it could destroy everything.

So you didn’t take any.

(Gojo was tired of not taking any).

He’s pulling back before you can move, slightly breathless as he smiles faintly down at you. “The point is to kiss me back, you know.”

And you blink, once, twice, before his words register and you gape up at him.

“I-I–!” You can’t find the words, feeling like your mind is short-circuiting as you stare up at him. Because it was so like him to be so smug when he’d just kissed you without confirming how you felt in return. It was so like him to just know that you were completely and wholeheartedly in love with him.

(Probably because he was too).

His hands are still on your waist and he’s close, more close than he’s ever been. You can feel his breath against your cheeks, and you’re sure you’re bright red, but you don’t want to pull away and you desperately want him to kiss you back.

Reaching forward, you decide Gojo’s words are all too fitting and to fuck it—you tug at his shirt, leaning to meet his lips.

He chuckles as you do, laugh warm and husky and it makes your knees feel weak as your lips meet his once more, eyes fluttering shut.

(It was, truly, everything you’d ever dreamed about).

And as you both pull away once more, breathless, he leans his forehead against your own and you run your fingers through the hairs on the back of his neck, laughing lightly.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you confess, turning to glance up at him.

Gojo grins; “me too.”

“So we were waiting for nothing?”

He shrugs; “guess so. But it doesn’t matter now.”

Your brows furrow, shaking your head as he shuffles closer, squeezing your hips.

“Because now I can kiss you whenever I want.”

“I’m gonna go speak to that Megumi kid tomorrow.”

Pausing at Gojo’s words, you close the book you’d been reading, shifting on the bed next to him to face him better. He’s already looking at you, tired eyes focused on your own as you nod at him. “Okay.”

“Just okay?” He asks, as if almost hesitantly. “I could end up with a kid depending on what he says.”

You nod. “I know.”

Gojo seems puzzled, head tilting as he leans over to his side rather than his back. His hand falls on your arm, grip gentle. “You’re okay with that?”

“I am,” you answer. “I want you to do what you think is right.”

“Even if it means bringing a random kid home?”

Snorting, you nod again. “Yes, Satoru. Even if it means bringing a kid home.”

“We’d have to… raise him,” he explains, the words sharp and uncomfortable on his tongue. “Or, at least, pay for him to live. Something like that.”

You laugh, reaching forward to cup his cheek. “Whatever you decide, I’m okay with.”

Gojo still seems skeptical. He eyes you like he’s sure there’s some hidden meaning behind your words or worried you might change your mind suddenly.

(You’d decided long ago you’d follow him to the ends of the earth if that’s what he decided).

“...You’re sure?”

Smiling, you hum; “yes.”

“Okay…” He says slowly, eyes flickering back to you once more just to make sure.

You just giggle, leaning into him and letting your head rest on his shoulder.

“Remember I have that mission tomorrow, too,” you remind him. “Whatever you decide, I’m okay with it but I won’t be there to help you until I come back from the mission. So, you’d be on your own with him for a while.”

Gojo guffaws next to you; “you’re acting like I’ve already decided.”

You raise a brow, glancing up at him through your lashes; “haven’t you?”

Frowning, Gojo squints down at you. “Maybe…”

Shaking your head, you just laugh. “I look forward to meeting him.”

“...Me too.” Gojo agrees, “if he wants to come.”

“He will,” you shrug. “I’m sure.”

Gojo doubts your certainty, but he doesn’t argue against it either. Instead, he shifts to wrap his arm around your waist and pull you closer against his side. You’ve got an early mission tomorrow, after all, and he doesn’t want to waste every last second he has with you until he’s torn apart from you for a whole weekend.

(Truly, the worst hell those higher up can subject him to).

You feel the same, of course. So you lean into him with ease, relishing in the feeling of his warmth and familiarity.

Thinking to yourself that your whole world will be different when you return—you and Gojo and a… kid.

(It’s crazy, but you still love the idea of it).

You don’t come home after that mission, though.

You don’t come home ever again.

And you don’t see Gojo until ten years later.

Setting your hands against his cheeks, you frown.

“I wanted you to live a long life.”

Gojo shakes his head. “Wasn’t worth living without you.”

You sniffle, swallowing back the tears that just continue to fall relentlessly. It was wonderful to have Gojo in your arms once more, but… but you’d wanted him to live forever… raising the new generation of Jujutsu Sorcerers and protecting them. Live a life, even if it meant without you.

You’d been content just watching.

But he was here now, regardless, and it would be silly to deny the fact that a part of you was happy to have him with you once more even if it broke your heart all the same.

“I missed you,” Gojo whispers against the top of your head, pulling you close into a hug. He holds tight and long, savoring the fact that he can have you in his arms once again after years of being forced to live without you. “I missed you so much.”

“Me too,” you agree, pressing your face into his chest and breathing in his familiar scent. “I’m sorry I couldn’t make it home.”

Gojo just shakes his head, a hand pressing to the back of yours.

“It’s okay,” he assures, “because I have you now.”

#.justauthoring #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff

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torasplanet · 6 months

Text

❝𝙅𝙀𝘼𝙇𝙊𝙐𝙎 𝙎𝙇𝙐𝙏.ᐟ❞

PLUG!E. YEAGER + BIMBO!F. READER ft. PLUG!C. SPRINGER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; you wanna get jealous over some crack whore and show your ass to connie? fine but now you gotta ride eren while connie watches. have fun.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 ; riding, slight degradation, unprotected sex, drabble, overstimulation, p in v, exhibition, mean!eren, mean!connie, threesome(mentioned), drugs, high sex, dacryphilia, cuckolding w armin(mentioned), college au, skin color not mentioned, ib

It didn’t bother Eren that much when you sat in the backseat of his car with a pout on your face while watching him deal to a dope-feen bitch who was touching all on his forearm, he could see where you were coming from and couldn’t get mad at you for being jealous, he just found it silly that you were getting upset over a crack whore who he didn’t even spare another glance after handing her the drugs she asked for.

You sitting there with a pout and your arms crossed against your chest ignoring him when he tried to talk to you didn’t bother him either. Eren was used to your fucked up attitude by now and just reminded himself to take care of that later so it didn’t lead to a petty argument.

However…what did bother him was when you purposely dropped five dollars on the ground on your way to the gas station store while he was busy practically showing your entire ass and lace panties to Connie who sat in his passenger seat after you begged him to give you money so you could get whatever fucking candy you asked for after ignoring him for the majority of the ride. That shit bothered him a lot, he considered asking Connie to handle the deal he was currently working on and getting out of the car dragging your ass back to the car by your hair, and teaching you not to fuck with him right there but no…he had a better idea. And that idea would come into play right now.

“‘Ren c’mon! My legs hurt…” You whined out planting your hands on Eren's chest as you sat on his lap on the couch with him eight inches deep inside of you, you had already come twice and your legs were aching! It wasn’t fair how he wasn’t letting you have a break! The brunette man simply looked up at you with his red-lidded eyes exhaling smoke into your precious face which was covered in tears and your ruined makeup, he passed the blunt in his hand back to Connie who sat on the other side of the couch watching the whole ordeal with a grin on his face “Hell no, you’re gonna fuck yourself out right in front of Connie since you love showing your ass to him right?” Eren said as you gazed down at him with watery eyes, it wasn’t a question, it wasn’t even a statement you were supposed to respond to because no matter what you said, it’d just end in him giving a slap to your ass.

But unfortunately, you weren’t thinking, not at all this entire night but you never did “No! I don’t, only for you ‘rennie!” Connie snickered at your pathetic statement as more tears spewed from your eyes, you turned your head and glared at him which just made him laugh even more, you looked so pathetic. Completely naked while they were both fully dressed, sobbing, and now you were glaring at him? You looked like a kicked puppy more than anything.

Eren sat up straight at your words before gripping your jaw and turning your head to face him, you could now feel his breath on your face from how close you two were “Then explain to me why you acted like a stupid whore showing my pussy to him?” His green eyes stared daggers into your soul as you stood there looking down at him silent, you didn’t have anything to say. He knew why and if you said anything about it he’d probably torture you more for being a ‘jealous slut’ that’s how he would say it.

He narrowed his eyes at you once more before letting go of your face harshly making a sob escape your throat “That’s what I thought, now keep going.” Eren demanded slapping his hand on the soft flesh of your ass making even more tears escape your eyes and flow down the apples of your cheeks.

You glanced at Connie for help but he did nothing but hit the blunt while remaining in eye contact with you, you whined as you continued to ride him tiredly trying your best to ignore the pain in your legs. You hoped this didn’t lead to a threesome, they would be so mean to you! Armin wouldn’t just sit there and let this happen. He’d help you and tell Eren to relax and that you didn’t deserve it! Having Armin watch was way better than dumb Connie!

A combination of moans and sobs were let out into the air as you lazily rode Eren, your back arching when he hit just the right spot as the two men acted liked you weren’t even there casually talking and passing the blunt back and forth, that might’ve hurt more than your legs. Eren knew from experience that you lived off attention, you were like a Tinkerbell, if you didn’t get the attention you would just die and he was refusing to give you that. What a dick!

Wet sounds filled the room along with their chatting that you didn’t care enough to listen to, that’s if you even had enough in you to hear anything “Ngh! ‘Rennie!” You were nearing your breaking point cumming for a third time and Eren wasn’t letting you stop anytime soon, every time you even halted your movements slightly, he’d slap you on your ass or give you a glare that scared you enough to keep going but everything was too much and you stopped completely leaning forward and collapsing on his body continuing to cry loudly.

“Fuck are you stopping for?” Eren said rudely pushing your limp body off his looking at you with hate and disgust hurting your feelings even more than he already had “Too tired…please m’ sorry!” Eren didn’t even react to your pleas as you banged your balled-up fists on his chest tiredly to get him to sympathize with you somehow even just a little bit “Too fucking bad.” Eren responded, “Hold on bro, maybe she just needs a lil’ sum’ to help her.” Connie said with a laugh before standing and walking over to you, he grabbed your jaw with his hand before putting the blunt to your lips as you looked up at him your puffy eyes. He almost came in his pants right there at the sight of you.

He and Eren watched as you inhaled before Connie took the blunt away from your mouth, the springer male leaned closer to press your lips together but Eren kicked his kneecap making the gray-eyed boy look at his friend with a scowl “Fuck was that for Eren?” You watched the ordeal as you exhaled the smoke out of your nose just glad Eren wasn’t focused on making you continue, eren didn’t really like sharing. Especially sharing you but the idea of threesomes appealed to him as long as the other person didn’t kiss you.

“I ain’t even let Armin kiss her, what makes you think you can?” The Yeager man questioned making Connie scoff before he plopped back down to his spot on the couch grumbling something about Eren being too damn possessive to have threesomes. Eren’s head then turned back to you looking at you with the same lidded eyes that have been giving you little attention all night “Lemme tell you sum’ pretty…” He whispered sitting up again and getting close to your face, he gave you a small peck on your lips making you whine. You wanted more than just a stupid peck, small kisses are for cheeks not for lips.

You looked down at him with teary eyes as you tried not to let them spill out as Eren would probably laugh if you did “If you stop again, you’re not cummin’ for weeks.” The statement made your jaw drop and your eyes widen, the sobbing continued as you heard Connie cackle loudly “Better get moving jealous slut.” You pouted at the statement as they were the exact words you thought eren would call you while your salty tears dropped down onto Eren’s white tee, with these two, this night was never going to end.

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#eren yeager #eren x reader #drabble ig #aot smut #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan smut #plug!eren #plug!connie #connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie springer smut #torasplanet.ᐟ #fem reader #bimbo!reader #eren yeager x reader #eren yeager smut #marls-fics.ᐟ #◛⑅·˚♡ren.ᐟ #◛⑅·˚♡connn>_<.ᐟ

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 14 days

Text

“You came.”

“As always, Harry Potter, your powers of observation astound,” the Dark Lord carps. “Care to explain why we’re both here?”

And there’s the million-dollar question. He hesitates for a moment, sticking his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting more. “You can feel it, yeah? Everything’s coming to a head.”

After staring for a few beats, Voldemort gives a terse nod.

Harry nods a couple times awkwardly in return, licking his dry lips. “So. We’re expected to fight, and at least one of us is meant to die.”

Voldemort tenses at his side. “If you intend to ask for mercy–”

“No, no,” Harry says, anxiously dragging a hand through his wild hair and leaving it even more of a mess. “I know there’s no middle ground, for either of us.”

His words catch in his throat, stuck in the anger and frustration and exhaustion of years of fighting and losing people with no real gain.

“But,” Voldemort prompts.

“But,” Harry agrees. “Have you ever ridden a Ferris wheel?”

Voldemort blinks and frowns at the apparent non-sequitur. He says, “I beg your pardon?” but the meaning is clearly ‘Are you mad?’

“Because I haven’t. My relatives,” and his voice breaks on the word because it’s only accurate in the most technical of senses. “Used to go to the local funfair every year. My cousin would always come back with candy apples and caramel corn and some gigantic plush animal he’d say he’d won.”

He smiles, but he can feel how ragged it is. “Fat chance, that. Guaranteed my uncle bought it for him.”

“Potter, what in Merlin’s name are you on about?” He’s apparently worn through Voldemort’s limited patience and the wizard is looking vaguely murderous.

“Right, sorry. Point is, I’ve never been, and I’m guessing you’ve never been to a funfair either. I doubt it was a priority at Wool’s.”

Voldemort’s wand appears in his hand and ‘vaguely’ has shifted quickly into ‘distinctly murderous.’

“Y’know, It’s funny what you fixate on when contemplating your mortality and what you’ll regret not having done when you die,” Harry continues quickly, trying to defuse the situation. “There are lots of things I haven’t done, and so many things I’ll miss. But I keep getting caught up on riding a bloody Ferris wheel, of all things.”

He’d considered asking his friends – he had. But it wouldn’t be new for Hermione, who’d had a pretty normal childhood, magic aside, and Ron wouldn’t get why it was important even once he’d wrapped his mind around the idea of a Ferris wheel. Ron had grown up with flying broomsticks, after all.

“I thought about who else might understand why it meant something, and, well,” Harry huffs, shuffling his feet self-consciously. “Here you are.”

He refuses to look at Voldemort’s face – who knows what expression he’s wearing, but it’s probably derisive in the extreme – instead focusing on the Dark Lord’s wand in case he has to defend himself.

“You invited me to go to a fair with you,” Voldemort says levelly. “Because we’re going to battle to the death soon.”

Well, when he puts it like that.

(naïve melody)

#harry potter #voldemort #tomarrymort #silverfox!voldemort #just two dudes who had rough childhoods #bisexual disaster harry potter #naïve melody

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wolfiesmoon · 3 months

Note

Hiiii! (I hope this is the place to make requests aaaaa haven’t done this in a W H I L E) but can I request pocky challenge headcanons for Floyd, Vil, and Idia? :)

Hope you’re having a great week and I love your writing :D

the way i freaked out over receiving this omg i'm so happy u like my writing😭😭😭

i love pocky challenge fics and you really fed me with the characters you chose since I have like 3467346826428 vil and idia drafts i can't get into rn. also we already know how my brain is rotting over floyd the eel boy at the moment

ALSO ALSO ALSO you aren't dating yet in these!! you're still just friends (but not for long😈)

(@kairiscorner i borrowed ur idea of picking out what flavour would fit them to add a little spice, I hope u don't mind!)

☾⋆⁺₊ Floyd Leech + Pocky Colorful

he gets really excited when you pull out the box of pockies 😆i mean, sharing food with you????? that's, like, the third best thing he can do with you!

and these pockies look rlly funny too, what does "colorful" even taste like? He's kinda in a mood to find out 😌

and gets even MORE excited when you mention the challenge!!!!

I mean, kissing AND sharing food with you?! he calls that a win for sure 😤😤😤😤

you're rlly surprised at how casual he is about it considering you just challenged him to try and kiss you essentially

but okay, i guess it is kinda Floydcore to just casually agree to a pocky game with no blushing or getting flustered (i suppose this means he likes you back??? what a mystery he is...)

you laugh to yourself at the silly grin on his face as u pull out a pocky and place one end into your mouth, leaning towards him to let him take the other end

he does so and you close your eyes, feeling kinda giddy all of a sudden

but you can still feel his downturned peepers staring a hole into you, curious to see every facial movement and reaction you may have👁️👁️

he must be really excited then!! (even if you feel extremely unsettled rn)

you slowly bite down on the stick, getting nervous. you can definitely hear him crunching on it too...

you can feel his breath, your noses bump for a moment and you think "THIS IS IT THIS IS IT THIS IS IT"

but then you hear a *snap* and the pocky falls out of your mouth... what just happened?

"I bit into it a bit too hard..." You open your eyes to see Floyd pouting like a toddler who was told he can't have candy

"It's okay, we can do it again!" you take out another pocky stick, placing the end in your mouth and looking at him expectantly

must be hard having such sharp teeth sometimes💔

"Now I don't feel like it anymore." Floyd huffed, getting up and walking away💀

That little... you still love him anyway tho🤷🏻

☾⋆⁺₊ Vil Schoenheit + Apple Yogurt Pocky

initially, he'd refuse since pockies are sweets and he needs to watch his sugar if he wants to keep his model figure and his clear skin

but he supposes sugar is nice to enjoy every once in a while (especially if he gets to share it with you)

but THEN you ask him if he's ever heard of the pocky challenge before😈

"I have heard of it in passing but I don't know what is actually is, why?" he raises an eyebrow, recalling some comments from his fans talking about it after the Pocky commercial he was in

"Becauuuuse, I think you should do it with me." you blink at him innocently before going on to explain the rules and seeing his eyes widen 😌

"So, what you're saying is... If neither of us back out, we kiss?"

WAIT WHAT

You actually expected him to turn you down immediately and chew you out for even making the suggestion since you're just friends but this certainly took a turn for the better

"Precisely." you smirked

"Just so you know, I'm not one to back out once I set my mind onto something." he smirked back at you, taking out a pocky stick from the box and placing it in front of your mouth for you to bite onto

the stick slowly begins to get smaller as your lips inch closer to his and you grip the couch you're currently sat on nervously

You take another bite and suddenly feel his lips on yours🤭

SUCCESS! SUCCESS! SUCCE-

"Oh? This is an interesting flavour~"

wait... you recognise that voice😨

"ROOK?!" the two of you separated and yelled at the same time, then turned your heads to see Rook casually enjoying your Pocky beside you

"Did you both enjoy the flavour as well?" Rook smiled innocently at you, taking out another one from the box

Vil pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling something under his breath while you just sat there in shock🧍🏻

☾⋆⁺₊ Idia Shroud + Sakura Pocky

being the candy enjoyer that he is, he would never turn down free pocky (especially not his favourite... which speaking of, how did you know that one is his favourite?)

(ortho supplied you with that information)

however, his smile dropped when you started talking about the challenge all of a sudden

and he became all red instead🤭

"You got all that?" you asked, waving the pocky stick in front of his face with an innocent smile

"D-Do I- Do I...."

babe, he cannot form a sentence right now, much less process anything you just told him. you cannot POSSIBLY expect him to give you a clear answer right now🙄

"Oh, do you not wanna do it? That's fine." you get up, ready to leave (you're doing this on purpose, manipulation is key😈)

but no, seriously, you weren't going to make him do anything he was uncomfortable with, and you kinda expected a reaction like this anyways😭

"N-No, No, I want to..." he grabs onto your sleeve awkwardly, literally shaking from embarrasment

you're actually kinda worried, will he even survive till the whole kiss part?

No time like the present to find out, you suppose

you place the pocky in your mouth, waiting for him to bite into the other end. he does and immediately screws his eyes shut, WAAAY too embarrased to look at you

the distance between the two of you slowly closes but when there's just a bit of the pocky stick left he lets go and immediately runs away, hair slightly red at the ends😫

"Oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god...." he whispers to himself over and over, thinking about how he almost kissed you just now

atleast he got to eat his favourite flavour...????

"Did it fail?" Ortho came out of his hiding spot and you nodded, pouting slighly☹️

"That's plan G crossed off the list. You wrote down '7 minutes in heaven' for plan H. Though I do not know what that is, I will assist you in any way I can."

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i-luvsang · 4 months

Text

a heart to warm — jung wooyoung

pairing : wooyoung x gn!reader ➖⟢ genres : major fluff, established relationship ➖⟢ cw : suggestive at first, my god so so many kisses ➖⟢ wc : 1.4K. @nebulousbrainsoup sweet orion ! tis i, one of your secret santas <33 i hope that you will enjoy this lots and may feel much warmth throughout the season! never forget that you are very much loved <33

if he could kiss you harder, he would, but he can taste the cider you drank a few minutes ago on your tongue and his hands have already slipped under your maroon sweater, so there's not anything to do about that except try and pull you impossibly closer. his hands on your bare skin are cold, a testament to the broken heating unit in your shared apartment. but you don’t care much, his lips on yours are all you could ask for in the moment.

he whines a little when you tug at his hair at the base of his neck. you know him all too well, realizing that he won’t be able to stop if you keep going like this. normally, you wouldn’t want to stop for even a moment, but the practically freezing air around you is holding you back.

you pull back just a bit and you feel the pout on his lips before you speak. “wooyoung,” you chide.

“what? baby, i wanna kiss you,” he practically complains.

“it’s too cold to get naked right now,” you explain. he laughs at your blunt choice of words, though he’d probably be more crass himself if he was the one saying it.

“so?” he teases.

“so, can we please just kiss and cuddle under the blankets? i’ll freeze if you get too horny and can’t help yourself,” you tease back.

“first of all, i can always help myself if it’s not what you want, no matter how horny i am,” his voice is light-hearted, but sincere as he reminds you that your consent always comes first to him. then, of course, his voice becomes suggestive and humorous all at once again. “also, there’s ways to take care of my horniness without you taking off your clothes.”

you laugh aloud at that, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “that’s true.”

“but of course we can stick to kissing and cuddles, specifically ones that happen under the blankets and keep us warm.” he rubs the tip of his nose against yours with a sweet smile. “we really need to get this fixed,” he says for maybe the seventh time in the past few hours as he pulls the covers up from the bed and lays down with you beside him.

you giggle. “correct! just like you have been every other time you’ve said that.”

“you’re the one complaining! i’m saying it for your sake,” he jokes, pressing a long kiss to your lips to prevent you from biting back.

you do anyways when his lips leave yours, of course. “i’m not even complaining! i’m just looking for ways to stay as warm as possible while we wait for random maintenance people to come fix it for us. you’re the one being impatient.”

this time he doesn’t even retort with words, just his lips back on yours. when you realize he has no intention of moving away from you any time soon, you let your eyes flutter closed and your lips move slowly against his. even though you technically were complaining about the cold, you still don’t care when the chill skin of his fingertips brush over your cheeks and push a few strands of hair away so he can cup your face sweetly.

it’s hard to think straight when he kisses you like this, soft like he’s so in love with you that he could melt right into your embrace. but you’re still able to think about how goddamn lucky you are to have wooyoung, wooyoung who wants to taste the hot apple cider on your tongue, hold you under the blankets when the heat is broken, and just kiss you sweetly if that’s what you want.

as you thread your hands through his dark hair, you realize that he smells a bit like peppermint, probably due to the candy cane and chocolate chip cookies he tried to bake for you in the morning. they weren’t bad, but he burnt them because he’s still not quite used to the oven in this apartment.

it's only been a week or two since you two have fully settled into your first apartment together, and you both had to laugh and groan about already having issues when the heating broke a few hours ago. but of course, that didn’t stop him from kissing you hard in the kitchen until you found yourself pressed against him on the bed.

and now he’s kissing you with that sweetness to rival any holiday cookie and maybe you’re thinking that you want him until the day you die, and every moment after that. so you have to break away for a moment, and tell him just that.

something about seeing the grin on his face this close up is absolutely divine.

“me too,” he whispers, “i want you, forever and ever.”

you grin back, “that’s good.” this time, you’re the one to close the gap between the two of you and kiss him soft, but full of conviction. there’s no second-guessing; you’re the one for him and he’s the one for you.

you’re not sure how long it is before you finally pull apart, but you certainly had to stop for breath more than once. now, with your head against his chest and the beating of his heart in your ear, there’s such peace that it fills you with a kind of warmth you’re not sure you could describe with words.

that is, until, no longer distracted from all else by his lips, you realize just how cold your toes are, even with two pairs of socks and thick blankets to cover you. you look up at wooyoung and notice the tip of his nose is beginning to turn pink.

“my god,” you laugh. “it’s way too cold here, even with the blankets. can we please crash at yeosang’s? you know he’s too nice to say no.”

wooyoung lets out a laugh of his own. “sweetest, it’s not nice to take advantage of people for their kindness.”

you scoff, “says you? you’re the worst of us all. besides, i can tell you’re cold, too.”

his laugh is soft this time, and he doesn’t continue making fun for once. “i’ll call him. you’re right, i think we’d freeze to death in our sleep.”

“thank you, love. i’ll start packing us a bag.” you hate to leave the comfort of all the blankets, but are happy to know you’ll be back in a heated home soon. you can hear wooyoung’s voice on the phone from the bathroom and smile to yourself when you hear him laugh at something yeosang’s said.

once outside and waiting for a taxi, wooyoung keeps one of your hands in his pocket, always intent on holding you to him in some way or another. he looks at you in your winter coat and favorite hat, your breath fogging up in the air as you look down the road. when you catch him staring, he doesn’t look away and you could almost cry because you can see it all. you can see the adoration in his eyes as he holds your gaze and smile that teases at his lips and the way that he loves you more than anything at all. and as thick snowflakes begin to fall from the sky, he leans in close because he just can’t help it and presses a long kiss to your lips. when he pulls away, just barely, there’s snow in his hair and he looks so beautiful like that.

“i love you, you know that, right?” he asks, voice soft and quiet, just for you. of course he knows that you know. but sometimes he just has he hear you say it. he needs to be reassured that you know you are loved to the ends of the endless universe and back, by him. that you know you’re irreplaceable and he could never love someone more than he loves you.

you nod first, holding his gaze, hoping he can see the love in your eyes too. “i know. and i love you, so so so much.”

“i know,” he grins. and because he has to, he really, truly has to, he presses one more kiss to your lips, then pulls you close with his free arm, holding you there until the taxi arrives.

how lucky are you to have a heart kept warm and comforted even in the cold of an apartment with broken heating or the open air of a snowy city. how lucky are you to have another’s heart to warm, too.

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

Note

“An emergency contact…” Yuu scratches their head. “Well, there’s one adult who stands out. Someone who has welcomed me with open arms, listened to my needs, and someone I really look up to and trust. Headmage Crowley! Do you have Trein’s cell number?”

Not gonna lie, you had me bawling in the first half 😂

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

Up until now, Crowley had been nodding enthusiastically to your every comment. Feathers fluffed, eyes shut, as he bathed in the unearned praise. You could almost see his ego inflating right before you.

One adult who stands out.

A smile formed.

Someone who has welcomed me with open arms...

It grew, elevating the apples of his cheeks.

... listened to my needs...

He was glowing with pride, the most excited you had ever witnessed him.

... and someone I really look up to and respect.

His face might actually rip in half.

The you had dropped the bomb, and Crowley's entire demeanor collapsed in on itself. His shattered smile landed atop of the heap.

“Wh-What?! Professor Trein…!!” he managed to stutter out. “Did I hear you correctly?!”

"Yeah," you replied calmly. "Professor Trein."

"Wh-What exactly makes him a standout?!" Crowley demanded. When you gave him a queer look, he quickly deflected. "N-Not that I am envious, of course! I am asking as his employer so that I may take student feedback into consideration when calculating end-of-the-year performance-based bonuses."

"He's done so much to look after me and all of his students,” you patiently explained. “Professor Trein chaperoned us to the City of Flowers and taught us about its history. He ensured our safety when there was trouble afoot and even shed a tear for our moral character. I also heard from Ace and Deuce that Professor Trein oversaw NRC when Charon invaded campus.

“He always makes time to speak one-on-one with his students even on matters outside of schoolwork. Professor Trein cares about us like we're his real children and grandchildren. I'd totally trust him as my emergency contact.

“Compared to that… I seem to vaguely remember a certain someone who shirks his responsibilities at every opportunity, wastes his time on walks and snacks instead of running the school, offloads his duties onto children, and ignores my SOS calls when I was being held hostage over winter break.”

“I wonder who it could be that you’re speaking off.”

“Gee, I wonder,” you said sarcastically, staring right at Crowley. “Sucks that we’ll never know. Anyway, do you have Professor Trein's number or not?"

"W-Well!!" Crowley bristled, disarmed by your demand. "It wouldn't be very professional of me to hand out my employees' contact information as though it were Halloween candy! It's strictly confidential, I'm afraid I cannot divulge it."

He folded his arms smugly, waiting for you to change your mind, to beg for his cell phone number instead.

"Aaah, I get it." You shrugged, cool as a cucumber. "That's okay, I can ask Professor Trein directly myself. It was worth a shot to ask you anyway, headmaster. See ya!"

With that, you turned and exited his office. No fanfare, no groveling. Just... nothing.

Crowley completely deflated, cradling his head in his hands. He teased out a whiny groan.

"For them to overlook their most generous headmaster in favor of Professor Trein... Ooooh, where did I go wrong with that child...?"

#twst #twisted wonderland #Dire Crowley #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #Two Ravens at the Writing Desk #Reader #self insert #glorious masquerade spoilers #book 6 spoilers #book 4 spoilers

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jo-harrington · 6 months

Text

Team Building (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: No one does Halloween quite like the Hellfire Club, and you just so happened to have promised to join them.

Previous Part: Closing Time

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. Mutual Pining and Slow Burn, Fluffy Fluff, Trick or Treating

Note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN and welcome back to the Store Manager Verse. I actually wanted to be further along with my chronological releases but it just never happened. This one is definitely probably one of the best timed releases with the holiday but there's a minor note that there's...maybe a reference to a yet-to-be published installation of the story. Eddie and SM are gonna be going on a little road trip at some point and will meet some of SM's family. DONT EVEN WORRY ABOUT IT FOR NOW. Just enjoy the shenanigans.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"You look cute today."

"Thanks!"

"You need to look less cute next week. We're doing zombies, remember?"

"Got it."

Every day.

"Did you pick up that fake blood from Melvalds like you promised?"

"Yeah it's at home."

"Ok great because...because I was a little afraid you were gonna forget about our plans."

"Don't worry Eddie."

He reminded you every day.

"Ok so we're meeting at Gareth's at 4 on Thursday."

"Alright I'll be there."

"No, uh, glitter makeup? We're going for realism. Shock and awe."

"I swear to god!"

Every day for an entire week, whether he was scheduled to work or not, Eddie showed up at Star Court to remind you that you had promised to go Trick or Treating with him and his friends.

It was cute endearing.

October--and more specifically Halloween--was one of your favorite times of the year at work. It was laid back and fun. No pressure from either Back to School or the Holiday rush, you could "dress up" with little costume pieces or fun makeup every day, and you could have a bowl of candy at the cash wrap that made everyone's day a little bit brighter.

And outside of work, you'd really embraced the season.

Correction, Eddie made you embrace the season.

Before moving to Hawkins, Halloween had always been incredibly...commercial. Costumes and decorations from the little seasonal aisle at the drugstore. The biggest display of candy at the grocery store that you needed to stock up on unless you wanted your house egged.

And your social life consisted, mainly, of outings with your coworkers. Pumpkin patches and haunted hayrides almost always became team building activities. That wasn't to say your coworkers--new and old--weren't your friends too.

But with Eddie...it was different.

A harvest festival outside of Muncie, horror movies late at night during a thunderstorm, warm apple cider at Merrill's Farm while looking for gourds that were shaped like your heads. Pumpkin carving on the porch at the trailer, cutting out bats and cats from black construction paper, and now Trick or Treating with his friends.

You thought, early on in your friendship, that it was just some throw away comment. But knowing him as well as you did now, you realized that he really meant everything he said.

Every promise was purposeful, especially when it came to the people he cared about. Which was why you were sure he was determined to make the night perfect. Not only for you, but for everyone.

Especially the handful of little sheep that were newcomers to Hellfire.

"The freshman," he explained on Sunday as you worked on your costumes together. "They're little turds but...I dunno, they have potential."

You'd already heard about them at the beginning of the year as Eddie gushed about his new recruits; younger brothers that Eddie sort of always wished for but was thankful he didn't actually have.

"They're not gonna think I'm some like...weird old person right?" you laughed self-consciously, thinking back to Jeff's comment when you said you wouldn't buy them beer. And sure you were not that much older than Eddie, but you were sure you were ancient to a bunch of 14-year olds.

"You're the coolest person I know. And I'm the coolest person they know."

"You saw how my brother is though," you waved your hand dismissively. Jimmy's words--who would have guessed your boyfriend's not lame like you--wouldn't stop echoing in your head though.

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

Eddie still wasn't your boyfriend.

They must have echoed in Eddie's too because his cheeks flushed and he immediately became bashful. He ducked his head into his shoulder a little bit and refused to meet your eyes as he hacked away at the sleeves of the old flannel in his hands.

"Your brother," he finally replied, "is a little turd too. I'm sure the kids will worship you. More than they worship me. I promise. Everything will be alright."

---

Before you knew it, Thursday rolled around.

You were running late to get to the Emerson's to get ready thanks to a last minute visit from your DM. Who knew that pictures of you and your team for the company-issued costume contest would take so long?

Still, to save time, you decided not to change costumes until you got to the house. Seeing as Eddie had grand plans for everyone's face paint to make them look as close to Day of the Dead as possible, you figured you would be fine.

However, you were not expecting the entire gaggle of boys to stare at you with stars in their eyes as you stepped out of your car, duffle bag full of torn old clothes and gallon of fake blood in-hand, done up like a glam metal superstar.

Or as close to it as you could get with the accessories you carried at the store. Rainbow hair extensions and glitter spray, layers of chain jewelry, and too much cheetah print.

"You," Eddie began as he pushed through the group to get to you. His face was already a ghastly pallor thanks to a layer of facepaint from melvalds, exactly as he had envisioned. "Are a traitor and a turncoat, a disgrace to the uniform, and your status as Corroded Coffin's number one fan."

"I've literally never heard you guys play," you rolled your eyes at him.

"Did my lesson about the different types of metal mean nothing to you?" he clutched a hand over his heart and then reached out and fiddled with your jewelry. "And didn't I say no glitter."

"I just need to use the bathroom to wash it all off. Then you can make me gross and moldy like you."

"It's not mold. It's rot. Get it right." You flipped him off and he grinned. "Hey sweetheart."

"Hi."

"Nice of you to finally join us."

Eddie threw an arm around your shoulders and led you into the garage. You said hi to Jeff, Gareth, and Dave, and then he introduced you to the sheep.

Mike and Lucas and Dustin and Will.

They were all a little bashful as Eddie went down the line; it was reminiscent of when you met the others, except less fun facts and more silly tidbits meant to embarrass the kids.

Will the Wise whose worst stat was intelligence. Dustin who had a girlfriend in Utah--

"She's real, I swear."

--Mike who had already gone through two new characters because he couldn't roll to save his life. Literally. And Lucas who liked sports.

"Oh my god," you scoffed at Eddie. “You make it sound like sports are a scourge."

"They are."

"You like hockey."

"I," Eddie paused. "Tolerate hockey."

You grinned triumphantly and said hello to each of the boys before ducking into the house to get changed.

"Dude, she is way out of your league." you could hear Mike whine, followed by a dull thud of a fist hitting an arm.

"That's what we've been telling him the whole time," Dave cackled.

---

Eddie and Will were the masterminds behind the zombification process--bickering back and forth about what scar went where and how gross that pus should look as they applied facepaint--but all the boys tossed in their creative input.

"Oh my god, do you still have that rubber eyeball from lunch? We can glue it to Jeff's hand."

"What if--don't touch my hair--what if we--don't touch my hair."

"More blood! More! MORE!"

Before you knew it, two hours had passed, it was dark out and gaggles of Trick-or-Treaters were already filling the streets. Gareth's mom had set herself up on the porch with a bowl full of fun-sized candy and wished you all farewell as you took off down the sidewalk.

A veritable hoard of the undead, with ripped clothes, foaming mouths, blood-soaked hands, and pillowcases to double as treat bags.

To your surprise, there was a lot more to Trick or Treating than you had initially thought. All your childhood, you'd just gone door to door for a few blocks, rang a bell, got some candy, and at the end of the night traded treats with your brothers or your friends.

To Hellfire, it was just as involved as any of their DnD campaigns. And it's how you learned more about each of the boys, and surprisingly, more about their fearless leader.

Lucas and Mike were the perfect strategists and, as you began your trek, listed off neighborhoods that gave the best candy. You got the in-depth analysis between full-size and fun-size candies, chocolate versus peanut butter versus nougat, and you made a mental note to be more mindful of the choices you put out at the cash wrap for next year.

Dustin and Eddie were the navigators mentally mapping the distances between each neighborhood and how quickly and efficiently the group could get around.

"We should have just taken the van," Eddie scoffed when Dustin suggested Loch Nora first, the furthest trek of the night.

"No, then we'll end up back at Gareth's by 10. We just need to walk fast, it'll be perfect."

"And my mom is making a casserole for dinner," Gareth piped up. "She said you're all welcome to stay."

"Why don't we end at my place," Mike suggested. "We can just hang out in the basement and my mom will order pizza."

"No one wants to sleep in your dusty ass basement Wheeler," Dave scoffed.

"We're definitely skipping school tomorrow," Eddie pointed at all of the kids. "I hope you all know that."

Dave and Jeff, much to your surprise, were the "war generals" as they so graciously called themselves. They had a few rolls of toilet paper and a carton of eggs tucked away in their pillowcases, in case they came across--

"The enemies!!!" The older boys hollered into the starry night sky, quickly earning glares from other kids and parents as they passed.

"And who would that be?" you asked. The entire group looked at you like you'd grown a second head. "I'm sorry I'm not well-versed in Halloween mischief."

"Oh it's gonna be fun corrupting you." Eddie laughed wickedly, and started ticking off examples on his fingers. "People who tell us we're too old to trick or treat."

"I thought you said no one cared!" you exclaimed.

"Most people," he clarified, "don't care. But someone called the cops on us. What was it? Last year? Year before?" He looked at the older boys for confirmation.

"Mrs. Peterson who likes to sic her dogs on the kids who get too close to her rose bushes," Lucas offered next.

"If someone has their porch light on, but doesn't answer the door."

"When someone gives raisins instead of candy," Will supplied, ignoring Dustin's quiet, I like raisins.

The list went on: people who made fun of their costumes, the one house where the guy sat on his porch and douse kids with "holy water" for engaging in devilry.

"And Jason Carver," Eddie finished with a flourish.

They all looked at you for some kind of objection...or maybe your approval? You weren't too sure.

But at your soft nod, they all whooped and hollered and a few of the younger boys even took off running so they could jump and scare some of the kids who were just minding their own business.

"See?" Eddie asked and grabbed your hand in his as you followed at the back of the group. "And you were afraid they were gonna think you were some gross old lady. They're trying to impress you."

"Impress is a stretch."

"Ah ah ah," he shook his head. "I will hear none of it. I told them all that they were to be on their best worst behavior. Make sure you have the best time. That they are mere peasants here to serve the Queen of the Undead."

You let his hand go and pushed him away from you, even though your heart beat a little faster knowing he wanted them to behave around you.

"Go before I gnaw on your brains."

"You promise?" he waggled his eyebrows at you suggestively.

"Go!"

---

It was an eventful night.

You moaned and groaned and shuffled your way across Hawkins, just like the zombies in Romero's movies, to get all sorts of sweet treats. Candy and popcorn and fresh-dipped caramel apples that someone was making in their yard in Loch Nora.

The group successfully TP'd one house, and you'd even personally egged someone's front door after they called the gang delinquents. You were not athletic in the slightest, but you hit your target dead on, and basked in the boy's gleeful war cries.

You were grateful for Eddie's suggestion of sneakers because you'd walked more in those 4 hours than you had during any Black Friday or Christmas Eve double shift in your entire career. You were sure even a day at Disneyland couldn't hold a candle to the Hellfire Club Whistle Stop Walking Candy Tour of Hawkins.

The boys all took to calling you mom pretty early in the night after you stopped Jeff from chomping into a handful of starbursts.

"Your braces," you reminded him, motioning to your teeth. "You're gonna snap a wire; you hate the orthodontist."

He groaned and all of the boys started snickering. Eddie, of course, was quick to shame him.

"Listen to your mother!"

And the nickname just stuck.

Of course Mike--who you noticed tried to emulate Eddie most out of the group of freshman--had a retort.

"If she's mom," he said smugly. "Does that mean you're dad?"

The boys all started making kissy faces and you had to laugh as Eddie got a little flustered.

After watching him flounder for a comeback, you decided to help him out, so you crossed the distance and pressed a quick peck to his cheek before you turned and shook your finger at the boys in a disappointed way.

"Next person to sass your father," you started. "And you're all grounded." They all looked a mixture of confused and worried for a second.

"What does that mean?" Lucas asked nervously.

"It means you start the next session with half of your hit points," Eddie finally recovered, voice growling in a threat. The boys all clammed up and turned to head to the next house.

"Sorry about them," he shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Nah, it's ok," you smiled reassuringly. "They meant well. Still...til death do us part, I guess."

You both froze and you started panicking.

Why had you said that?

Still, Eddie was able to make it all better. He shuffled his feet and cracked a smile, then gestured to your costumes.

"Or uh...undeath. Considering."

Still, you had butterflies in your stomach every time one of the boys called you mom and dad for the rest of the night.

---

By the time 10 rolled around, you were back at the Emerson's house. Gareth's mom greeted you all excitedly with sodas and plates of hot buffalo chicken casserole with crispy tater tots on top, and you all sat in the garage to eat and divvy up your haul.

"So," Eddie slumped on the sofa next to you at some point after dinner was finished. You were tiredly watching Lucas and Dave argue the merits of Three Musketeers versus Milky Way and glad for the distraction. "Did you have fun?"

"Of course."

"Enough to do it again next year?"

"Is this your way of telling me you guys trick or treat every year?" you joked. "Because I kind of picked up on those hints all night."

"More like...I don't know," he sniffed awkwardly. "You still planning to be my friend next year?"

"Stop asking me that," you hit the back of your hand against his chest. "If I got to see you be a big dork with your gaggle of kindergarteners--"

"Hey!" came Will and Mike's whine from a few feet away.

"--and I'm still here, nothing's gonna scare me away Eddie."

He grabbed your hand to stop you from hitting him again, but stayed silent for a moment, eyes darting back and forth between yours as his tongue worried his lip.

You got nervous the longer he hesitated to say something, and once he did, you had the sneaking suspicion it wasn't exactly what he'd really wanted to say in the first place.

You hoped it wasn't what he wanted to say. Hoped it was just something he couldn't say in front of his friends.

"Then you don't mind if we do Alien next year. And before you say anything, I think I would make a great Ripley. I already have the hair for it and I'm pretty sure I have that same underwear."

"Sure Eddie," you agreed a little stiffly. "Sounds perfect."

He smiled, but it didn't quite meet his eyes.

Still, the two of you stayed huddled together on that couch for the rest of the night, surrounded by friends.

Hands held comfortably together.

Next Part: Promotion

#Eddie Munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #Eddie muson fic #Eddie Munson stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #Eddie Munson fluff #store manager verse

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tteokdoroki · 1 year

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𑊡˚+₊🍼✦ — wanna, make you… + yoichi isagi

૮ ͈>◡< ͈ა warnings — smut, nsfw, minors do not interact. pussy eating, fingering, new relationship, fem!reader, isagi’s cocky when it comes to making you feel good. enjoy <3

“isagi.”

“yeah, precious?”

“yoichi isagi…you’re starin’,”

at your words, his chin juts upwards to meet your gaze, ocean blue eyes darken as if you’ve hit the deepest point of water in the world. they ripple with hunger, they flicker and you see how feral he is. the kind of ravenousness you can only witness in isagi when he’s on the pitch, piecing together his perfect victory like a one thousand piece puzzle. shooting goals. winning.

“hm? oh yeah… i know, i just, you’re just…” his hands dance over the figure of your hips and his fingertips press into the dips of them— debating on grabbing them or pushing you back onto the bed so he can pin them to the sheets. “just really wet. so wet. did i get you this wet?”

he says it like he’s surprised about having this much command over your body. though it’s not your first time, it’s one of the first few times he’s had you like this since you’ve gotten together. but you’d assumed yoichi knew the impact he had on you.

“only you, chi. you always do.” lifting a leg and keeping your balance, you lay your thigh over the man’s muscular shoulder— giving him the perfect view of your silken slit, the way it drips like liquid gold and glistens like a diamond in the rough. you’re spread apart, splayed out like a five course meal for your boyfriend and all he can do is stare.

“fuck…”

you feel his breath, light and warm like an ocean breeze between your thighs— coasting over the heartbeat that’s crawled it’s way slow from your chest, into your bloodstream and straight to your clit.

“yoichi—“ you’re about to beg, hands in the thick black of his hair— messing it up because you know it sends shivers down his spine, for isagi to know that he’s needed. a part of something, a part of your pleasure.

but he cuts you off, voice dipped in honey and eyes spiralling with a boastful ego like he’s highly aware that he has what it takes to make you fall to pieces. “i want your pussy on my face, precious.” he says thickly, Adam’s apple bobbing with the viscosity of his words. “wanna taste her, want her juices all over me…”

“then why haven’t you—“

“wanted to figure out how,” isagi cuts you off again, leaning forward and pressing his rosebud-pink tongue flat to the length of your core. he doesn’t dare move it, instead drags his head up as if he’s nodding, the motion causing the pink muscle to slide between puffy folds and your nectar to drip right into his mouth.

you whine at the contact, balling up your fists in his hair— dragging the man by the scalp into your quivering cunt. “h-how?” he smiles into your core. “isagi don’t tease me.”

“i already know how to make you cum,” the striker explains cockily— the vibrations of his voice shooting straight to your clit, emptying your brain of any verbal feedback aside from mewls and sighs. isagi adds his fingers to the mix, long and slender, spreading you wide and sucking the essence that clings to your pussy lips up before it has a chance to leak. “know when you’re close, you always grab at my hair or my neck. know how much sweeter you get when you’re about to burst for me.”

looking up at you once more, with his fingers replacing his tongue, isagi presses a kiss to your soft tummy— smearing your slick along your skin. “this time i want to be better,” when he speaks, he follows along with the increased pitch of your voice and how it peaks. he pouts with you, coos sweetly like there’s popping candy spread across his tongue and curls his digits along the inside of your creamy walls until you break. “this time i want to do more for you, precious. i want to see you break.”

“yoichi…p-please!”

he dangles pleasure in front of you like it’s food and you’re an animal, starved— writing his signature against your g-spot with rough fingertips and you can do nothing but writhe against their flow.

“this time, precious, i wanna make you squirt.”

#blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #isagi x reader #blue lock x you #isagi x you #isagi smut #yoichi isagi x reader #bllk smut #isagi yoichi smut #isagi thirsts #blue lock imagines #isagi yoichi x reader #bllk x reader #bllk x you #✧ ₊˚੭ — writing #tteokdoroki #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted

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tarosunshine · 2 months

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엔하이픈 𐙚 VAMP﹗

genre fluff vampire au 𖹭 warning blood jealousy pairing — OT7 x fem reader

— they use their powers and abilities.

NOTE : this is based on the webtoon ! (kinda)

𐙚 HEESUNG : read mind

“hee, where are you?” you called him in your mind since you couldn't see him anywhere. you hoped he could hear you wherever he was. thanks to the hustle and bustle of the place and the people, you couldn't find him, and he hadn't brought his phone with him either. “i'm near the caramel apple stand” you spoke again in your mind. about 10 minutes ago, heesung had gone for ice cream, while you had stayed in line for the ferris wheel, but they closed the game, so you had to move.

luckily, seconds later, you heard your boyfriend's voice behind you. “here you are. your favorite, babe” he handed you the ice cream with a smile. “i thought you wouldn't listen to me” you also smiled when you saw him and grabbed the cone. he grabbed your free hand, and you started walking. “if you call me, i will always listen to you, love” he said as he tilts his head to you. then you trapped your fingers with his and walked towards the car. on the way, you explained to him what had happened to the game, so you decided to return home.

𐙚 JAY : superhuman strength

“jay...” you sighed as you left your bag on one of the empty chairs. you heard a sigh from him too. “honey, you had to see how he looked at you. and when he touched your waist? and he make you uncomfortable!” jay speaks exasperated as he frowned and sighed over and over again. he was so angry at the guy, not at you. he could never get angry with you. “here, have some water, and don't worry about that idiot” you handed him a glass on the table and turned to pour one for yourself. but suddenly you heard the sound of glass breaking and you immediately turned in alarm in the direction of your boyfriend.

the first thing you saw was the broken glass on his hand suspended in the air and how the blood began to drip down his arm and hand. “oh my god, jay!” you immediately walked over and started removing the large pieces of glass from his hand. then you ran to get the first aid kit and sat down in front of him. his eyes were still in shock. “i... i don't know what happened to me, i'm sorry” he lowered his head in shame and let you clean him up. “was that your super strength?” you mocked, smiling so he wouldn't feel so bad. “yeah. i don't know why i couldn't control it. i'm really sorry” with his good hand, he caressed your face. you smiled at him and rested your hand on his. “and i'm sorry if i scared you.”

𐙚 JAKE : pyrokinesis

it was almost midnight, and after a long day, you and your boyfriend were lying in bed while watching a movie.

“are you hungry?” jake asked as he stroked your hair. you shook against his chest, but something suddenly came to your mind. “although...” you spoke, raising your face, looking at him with smiling eyes. he suspected what you would say and moved his hand away from you.

you immediately got out of bed and headed towards the kitchen as jake followed you with a smile and rested his arms on the table, looking at you. when you turned to see him, you had a bag of marshmallows. you waved in the air, and he shook his head smiling. “you know i can't use my powers all the time. it's dangerous, love” he approached your face and kissed your cheek. “just one... please?” he couldn't refuse if you looked at him with those eyes. “fine” he agreed, now kissing the tip of your nose. you smiled and stabbed two marshmallows with two forks, then you handed him one, and a small flame came out of his finger, starting to melt the candy. you looked at his hand fascinated, as if it were the first time he had done it. jake chuckled when he saw your face and then held out the marshmallow to you. you kissed his cheek in gratitude. “thank you.” “always, love.”

𐙚 SUNGHOON : half werwolf and half vampire

just a few seconds ago, you had stopped paying attention to what sunghoon was talking in front of you. “did you hear me, babe?” he asked, looking at you with puppy eyes. you smiled when you saw him and denied it. “sorry, sorry... are your fangs bigger than before, hoon?” you asked, changing the subject since that was what had distracted you. “my fangs?” he spoke, touching the tip of one of them with a finger and furrowing his eyebrows. you nodded, looking at his mouth.

“it must be because tonight is full moon” he commented, carefully looking at his teeth on the screen of his phone. you nodded, remembering. “well you look cute” you rested your hand on his cheek. he approached your face with a silly smile, causing his fangs to stick out, and he give you a small kiss, who turned out in a needy and long one. “ouch” you put your finger over your lips, feeling the pain. he looked at you worried and grabbed your cheeks. “oh, i'm so sorry. it wasn't my intention. i think i got a little too excited” he ran his finger over the small trail of blood. “i didn't though they were so sharp” sunghoon covered his mouth with his hand while he continued caressing the injured place with the other. “it's okay, don't worry” you smiled, to reassure him.

𐙚 SUNOO : mind controler

you had been at a party for a couple of hours, but you weren't having such a good time. it was already starting to get boring, so in a few minutes you would leave, or well, that was what you had planned until you saw a group of boys talking animatedly in an area that you had not paid attention to. and one boy in particular caught your attention, one with red hair. you looked at him several times, and his fox-like eyes hypnotized you for a few seconds. you didn't realize when your body moved on it's own and you advanced towards them, but you stopped and blinked, confused. this time, you made your way towards the exit but then heard a male voice behind you, and when you turned, you found the redhead, who smiled.

“hi” you meet his kind eyes as he tilts his head slightly to the side. you returned the greeting, somewhat embarrassed.

⋆ 一

“i can't believe that you used your powers the first time we met, kim sunoo” you says somewhat offended as you looked at your boyfriend with furrowed eyebrows. the boy smiled, embarrassed as he looked away. “and they didn't work” you scoffed as you poked his cheek several times. he tightened his arms around you, looking with those eyes that tried to manipulate you that time.

“yes, and i'm sorry about that” he apologized, pouting as he approached your face, but right after that, his lips curved in a sweet smile. you wanted to pinch his cheeks. “are you trying to manipulate my mind right now?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. so he raised both eyebrows and looked at you offended. “i promised i would never do it again, honey. seriously” he spoke before giving you a small kiss on the lips. you giggled and hugged his waist. “hm, then i just like you a lot.”

his smile remained for a few seconds, then he slowly kissed your lips again, placing his hands on your cheeks as he gently caressed your skin. “i definitely like you more” he says and nods, and in one movement, he makes you fall over his chest, hugging and wrapping your body with legs and arms.

𐙚 JUNGWOON : teleportation

“i miss you, woon” you spoke with the phone in your hand and pouted as if your boyfriend could see. you heard his cute laugh. “i miss you too. a lot. and you have no idea how much i want to see your face, but remember that i'll be back tonight” he reminds, and you could hear a couple of things falling where he was. “yeah, you're right” a sigh left your lips, trying to ignore the noise on the other side. you heard a guttural noise from him, then a curse. “sungwoon? something wrong?” you asked a little worried. he didn't answer you. on the contrary, he cut off the call. you frowned at your phone as you moved it away from your ear. “what's wrong with him?” you murmured, puting the device aside and laying on your back on the couch of the lonely house.

“did you miss me, my love?” a pair of dark glasses and a charming smile appeared in your vision. you almost fainted from shock. “yang jungwoon!” you gasped as you rested one hand on your heart and sat down. he jumped over the sofa, sitting at your side. “it was a lie that you missed me?” he asked with a sad voice. then you grabbed his face with a smile and gently removed his glasses. “i reeeally missed you.” in one movement, you pulled him towards your body, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him as he hid his face on your neck. “did you just use your powers at daytime?” you asked, smiling. as he got apart a little from you, his lips twisted into a smirk and nodded. “because i want to see you. i couldn’t wait” he complained and burry his face in your neck again, inhaling your essence happily.

𐙚 NI-KI : teleportation, shadow manipulator

“it's always the same with you, nishimura” you complained and rolled your eyes as you began to walk with your arms crossed, ignoring him. the sound of his giggle reaches you. “of course! i know you love me” his mocking tone was evident, but you just ignored his words, leaving him behind.

“love you? yeah, right. i don’t even like you” you muttered as you mocked his expressions. but suddenly, his figure appeared in front of you, and you collided with his chest. “nishimura!” you went up, looking at him pissed off. you met his gaze that was darkened. “you do not like me at all? i'm sure you do” he spoke, looking into your eyes with a playful smile. “nishimura, you can't use your powers here” you whispered as you looked everywhere. luckily, everyone was in class, so you took him by the shoulders, making sure no one saw, and moved somewhere where no teacher or student would see you.

“you know this would look bad if someone saw us, right?” he also whispered, looking at you with the same smile. you frowned and immediately moved away from his body. “oh, no... look, a teacher!” he pointed out surprised, you turned your head and saw the shadow of a teacher. you gasped and moved closer to him again to hide, but you immediately heard his amused laugh against your forehead, and you slowly looked up at him and sighed, realizing what he did. “stop using your powers and stop making fun of me.” you pushed his body and walked away from him, heading towards your classroom. he follows you, and you hear his mocking laugh again.

#lim ⋆#˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen jake #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #enhypen vampire au #enhypen au #enhypen headers

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