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pinkrelish · 1 year

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶It's Christmas morning at the Munson's and Adrie has a small request.✶

NSFW — slow burn, fluff, lovesick yearning, very light angst, 18+ for eventual smut, drug/alcohol mention/use

chapter: 7/20 [wc: 3.4k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 7: Breakthrough

Dreams of sleeping in were crushed one tiny footstep at a time.

Morning broke through the burgundy bed sheet hung as a curtain in the window. Slivers of blue fought away the slumbering gloom clinging to the peeled wallpaper, invading the small bedroom in drowsy clock ticks. Murky wine-colored shadows caressed the bundled comforter, crowded the pillows, soothed closed eyes into sweet dreams. Darkness cradled his head and sold him a lullaby fantasy. An aching yearn of a dream where the cold penetrating the thin trailer walls was kept at bay by more than his own body heat. Arms encircling him, a kiss behind his ear, a gentle wake up call. An idyllic rapture easily woven from the fibers of his unguarded heart. An aspiration quickly escaping his wishful fingers at the sound of running, and the vibrations of the trailer shaking, and–especially–the little voice yelling at him his five extra minutes were up.

“Daddy! You have to wake up.” Adrie jumped knees-first onto the mattress, and bounced her way over to him. “It’s Christmas, you have to get up!”

He grumbled from his warm pocket of air under the covers, and she whined.

“Please,” she begged, crawling towards him.

He winced, and hissed, “Ow-ow-ow, watch the hair. Miss Mouse won’t like me if I go bald.” He dropped his head back to where she sank her mighty fists into his pillow, and she apologized by putting all her strength into shaking his shoulder instead.

Wayne called from the kitchen, “I’m gettin’ started on our famous Christmas casserole.”

“Now that,” Eddie said in an upbeat tone, “I’ll get up for.”

“You’re mean,” Adrie pouted, scooting until her knees dug into his spine, and added on to it by saying it wasn’t fair he was making her wait to open presents.

Eddie twisted around to see her manufactured sad face (practiced over the years to elicit the strongest pity in him), and he snaked his arm out of the blankets to hook it around her, bringing her wriggling self in for a sloppy kiss on her forehead. She made a ‘yuck!’ sound and pushed away.

“Go sit, I’ll be there in a minute.”

Willfully, Adrienne slipped from his hold and sprinted the length of the trailer, rattling the metal window panes along her way.

In the following moment of quiet, he inhaled deep, and sighed through his hands scrubbing over his face. The oil in the electric radiator popped. A bird chirped. Music blasted from a neighbor’s home. A faraway bike skidded, spitting up loose rocks from the trailer park’s entrance.

Eddie rolled onto his back, and blinked at the stained ceiling. He tried to not make a habit of sleeping in Adrie’s bed now that she was older, but sometimes his back cried for a break from the lumpy couch cushions.. His back, his hips, his knees, his neck. All of it. Every now and then he needed the relief, to flatten himself out on the mattress after several long days of work wearing down on his body, even if it was considered weird or wrong by others.

Swinging his legs over the short drop to the floor, Eddie straightened out his thick knit socks, sweatpants, sweatshirt. He rubbed his knuckles against his dry eyes, stinging a line of water along his lashes. Flipped off the switch to the heater. Ran his fingers through his tangled hair, mouth tasting of stale beer from drinking last night with Wayne.

He stepped out of the room that used to be his, and staring at him down the hallway, past the kitchen, at the other end of the lousy home, was his little girl. She sat crisscrossed at the stout tree smelling of fresh sap, illuminated by colorful strands of lights, and backed by old ornaments previously stored in cardboard boxes. Her eyes sparkled with silver tinsel happiness, and her springy curls bounced with the excitement of her wave.

Wayne wrung a damp dish towel around his hands as he and Eddie made their way to the couch, and he gestured at her. “Alright, darlin’, you can go.”

The sacrifices were worth it.

In this lousy home filled with overdue bills and underprivileged struggles, was an abundance of love and awe. Eddie sat at the edge of his make-do bed with scratchy cushions that chafed his skin raw, and brushed his shaky fingers over his lips. “Yeah? Is that the one you wanted?” he asked, grinning so wide his puffy sleep-deprived eyes nearly closed from the unbridled joy he felt watching his daughter tear into the Rockin Robot cassette player and recorder; a toy which had an attached microphone so she could record herself singing onto blank tapes. “Wanna make music just like me?”

“Yes! I love it!”

It didn’t take long for Adrie to open her presents in the established order–smallest to largest. Stocking stuffers first, which she dumped out onto the pine-needled carpet, and snatched all the chocolates to put on the coffee table next to the plate of cookie crumbs and empty Looney Tunes mug. Tossed the pack of new socks and dress into a pile, but wore her pink rain boots. The talking Barney the Dinosaur doll, cassette recorder, and Barbie Fold ‘n Fun play house were placed aside for assembly and batteries later.

Wayne gathered the ribbons and bows she discarded to be saved for next year, and said, “Okay, Miss Adrie. Looks like you have one present left.”

The forest green bag with a portrait of Saint Nick sat propped against the tree, nearly as tall as Adrie when she stood and grabbed the handles. She peeked inside, and in one motion, dropped to the floor, and dislodged gift after gift. An eight-page book with reusable stickers she could move around to create scenes of dinosaurs roaming the land. A big box of 64 crayons with two coloring books. A plastic jewelry making kit. A puzzle. Containers of Play-Doh. And the very last item, turned over and shaken out from the bag, was a unicorn.

Adrie squealed, and swept the stuffed animal into her arms for a merciless hug. “He’s so cute!” she said, burying her face in the powder blue fur.

Eddie stopped tracing his lips. Wayne tilted his head at the scene, confused.

Spotting a small red envelope amongst the torn newspaper her presents were wrapped in, Adrie picked it up, and mouthed out the handwriting she wasn’t familiar with. “Santa left this for you.” Adrie held it out for Eddie to take.

Prying his gaze off the unexpected hoard, he accepted the envelope with his name on it, not uttering a word, nor reacting more than necessary. She bolted for her toys, and Wayne’s scrutiny was hot on the side of his expressionless face, watching him slide his finger under the corner of the flap and break the seal gently, avoiding tearing the paper.

He pulled out the card to reveal an illustration of two cardinals in a pine tree flocked with white glitter snow with a generic greeting on the front. Certain words were underlined in pen afterwards.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

He opened it to see if anything was written inside.

One glimpse.

He smashed the card closed and turned his face away from his uncle.

Collecting himself, Eddie sniffed and ran his knuckles along his jaw until he reached back and wrung his nape as he stood up, and walked to the coat hooks, slipping on his jacket and shoving his feet into his work boots without acknowledging his family.

“Where’re you–?” Wayne stared at his back in quiet bafflement.

“Goin’ out for a smoke,” he answered, and shut the door behind him.

~~~

Tree branches stilled after the delicate breeze knocking them together ceased. Hungry dogs went inside for kibble and warm blankets. Kids stopped riding their bikes when their moms called their names. Humidity dampened the crisp air. Everything hushed.

Eddie sat on the frumpy loveseat on the porch built onto the trailer. His forearms laid on his thighs, and the card remained clapped between his palms. He took a shaky breath. Exhaled. Or tried, anyway, to breathe despite his nose stopping up.

He opened the card again and read the message spanning the entire blank space available.

merry christmas eddie,

i hope adrie likes the gifts!

i know it’s hard for you to find peace,

so i tried going for quiet things that would

keep her busy, like the puzzle. it’s double sided!

that’ll keep her entertained. and i loved

play-doh as a kid, so i hope she does

too. & i can get her more coloring books if

she doesn’t like the animal ones. i know

Continued on the other side–

the bracelet kit says ages 7+ but maybe

you can supervise her. i remember having

one when i was little, before parents cared if

we choked on the beads.

SEASONS GREETINGS AND HAPPY NEW YEAR

if she’s not still in her unicorn phase, spare me!

it was too cute to pass up.

anyway, please get lots of rest over the holidays.

you deserve to relax.

–♡–

mouse

His daughter came dashing out the door, and ran up to him with her jacket flapping around her arms. He shoved the card under his thigh, and shifted his focus to zipping it up for her to silence his emotions from surfacing, not having the energy to risk shattering the facade of the morning by explaining why the unicorn she galloped up his leg meant more to him than it did her.

“You like what Santa got you?” he asked, running a heavy hand over her hair.

“He knew exactly what I wanted,” she rejoiced.

With the temperature dropped, and her boots shiny, she raced the stuffed animal up to his hip, and left him to babysit it while she played outside in the frozen-over yard.

Gladly, he tucked the unicorn companion under his arm as Wayne pushed open the squeaky side door and joined him.

Under normal circumstances, Wayne’s old man stoicism worked wonders on getting Eddie to talk. It was a sure thing. He’d see him come home with red-rimmed eyes, or that far away gaze on the worser days, and he sat in earnest patience, knowing his nephew needed the cool down time to organize his thoughts, and then he’d explain what had him upset.

It worked less well in the years following the incident which led to Eddie’s ostracization from Hawkins, but he just had to be patient. It would work. Eventually. Just had to be patient.

And when his nephew refused to speak, Wayne sparked up a cigarette, and ventured, “I don’t, uh, remember us buyin’ those last presents.”

“They’re from the receptionist at work,” Eddie stated. He didn’t move his gaze from staring holes into the worn down floorboards, but he did sink back into the couch, combing his fingers through the unicorn’s white mane.

“Oh,” Wayne said in genuine surprise. “That was nice of her.”

Treading carefully, his uncle spun his hand as he thought of the best way to approach the real conversation he wanted to have. “She seems nice.. To you, and to Adrie.”

That was when Eddie shook his head. “I know where you're going with this,” he warned, absent of any real threat behind the words.

He went silent in stubbornness.

But Wayne just had to be patient.

“She’s very.. uh.” Eddie sighed. He started again, this time looking up at the rusted awning as if it had all the answers to his love life woes. “She’s very vibrant, y’know? From the city, lives a big life, loves performing for people. She doesn’t need a gray cloud like me hanging over her.” He laughed a hollow laugh, and bumped his shoulder into Wayne’s, pretending their conversation was of the light-hearted variety. Like admitting these things aloud didn’t cause a devastating blow to his neglected self-esteem. “Doesn’t need someone like me tying her down to a place like this.”

Wayne scanned the same trailer park in the same small town with the same curse of bearing the Munson name, but he viewed them with less disdain. Less animosity. “You used to be vibrant too, kid. Used to always be talkin’ about your hobbies, playing music too loud, sittin’ out here with your guitar. Always bringing your friends over. What happened?”

Too many things happened, and they were not the kind he verbalized often, so Eddie chose the most obvious.

The corner of his mouth twitched at the joke flashing through his mind. He got in real close to Wayne’s face, raised his hand, and directed his attention. “My vibrancy’s currently ruining her new shoes.”

Tracking his finger, Wayne slowly turned his head in time to see Adrie crack the ice barring her from a puddle, and stomped it into smithereens, sending mud up her pajama pants and into her pretty pink rain boots. She jumped, and jumped, and giggled, and jumped, all over her dad’s heart.

Satisfied, Eddie hugged the unicorn to his chest after making his point.

“Have you considered maybe she likes gray clouds? Or she’s the type that looks forward to the rainy days?”

“We can drop the weather analogies, Wayne,” he said in a curt tone, cutting off his uncle's incessantness. “It’s not that, anyway. I know she likes me, I’m not that dense.”

Wayne didn’t put much effort into keeping the humor out of his voice, “Then what are you being dense about?” The contemptuous head tilt and accompanying eye roll were earned, but not regretted.

“She might be moving away at the end of summer.”

He took a long drag on his cigarette. “Might be?”

“She doesn’t know yet.”

He watched Eddie’s expression slacken to stark blankness again–face and posture wilting, weighed down by his fate–already resigning on a relationship he hadn’t yet given a chance. “Don’t you want to at least try? I mean, you never know. What if she–?”

“Don’t you think I’ve thought about that?” Eddie interrupted, growing annoyed at the topic and allowing it to seep into his temper. “Don’t you think I’ve sat here, day after day, and thought about it from all angles? Over, and over.” He became more animated as he spat out questions rapid-fire. “What if she stays? What if she leaves? What if things work out? What if they don’t? Do I deserve it even if it’s short term? Can I handle it when Adrie asks me why she’s not around anymore? Like, fuck. It’s all I think about. Constantly! Just again, and again. She could move back to New York and live her accomplished life without ever giving me another thought, but what if she doesn’t want to go back? What if she wants to stick around? What if she wants to work with me at the garage forever, and we get married, and buy a small house with a white picket fence, and live out our textbook dream together with 2.5 kids and a dog. Who knows!” Done ranting, Eddie ended it in a full bodied shrug, and collapsed into the cushions, releasing the most cathartic, yet dramatic sigh Wayne had ever heard. “She’s all I think about. Drives me insane.”

Wayne held out the pack of Camels to him, but it was rejected in a limp wave.

“I..” Eddie’s mouth hinged on the words, bottom lip quivering as the questions he posed washed over him as an exhausted, watery-eyed truth, “I didn’t even realize how bad the stress had gotten until she just..” He motioned. “Fixed it.”

Acknowledging the bitter reality, Wayne nodded. “You are much nicer to be around since you two started hanging out.. Adrie sees it, too.”

Not that Eddie meant to be an asshole, but after grueling hours of hard labor, he had little tolerance for the arguments before bath time, or the meltdowns before school. Months prior, he was alongside his daughter, crying harder than she did when the smallest inconvenience set her off, ending with both of them huddled on the floor; one of them screaming to be understood, and the other in a hopeless heap of a man who reduced himself to a shitty father who couldn’t do anything right, drowning under the pressure, anxiety, responsibility to not fuck up again.

Now, he was able to swim to the sun glimmering on the surface.

Wayne landed his rough palm atop Eddie’s untamed bedhead, and soothed him, “You should give yourself a chance at something great. I’ll be here to pick up the pieces if it doesn’t work out.”

Eddie sniffed, and wrung his lips to the side. “You gonna pick up Adrie’s pieces too?” he asked softly.

“I will, son.” Despite the rocky times in their relationship–the slammed doors, the yelling matches, the coming home with a newborn and no money to afford baby formula–Wayne promised him, “Whatever it takes to make you happy. I’ll do it.”

The egg timer in the kitchen dinged.

“Breakfast’s ready,” he grunted, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray, and giving the quick-nod-with-a-flattened-smile older men were known for after confiding in one another, and he went inside.

There wasn’t much time for Eddie to process the weight of his internal decision before Adrie was climbing onto the loveseat. And if she noticed she left a trail of mud up his pant’s leg on her way to kneeling beside him, she didn’t care. All that mattered was her icicle skin melting in the warmth of his heavy arm wrapped around her middle; and effortlessly, she fell into the comfort of his embrace while working her hands beneath his hair, untucking it from his jacket’s collar, and hugging him back.

Eddie stashed the card in his pocket, and grabbed the unicorn by the back of its head, putting the nose to her cheek and pretending it was giving her kisses. “Did you have a good Christmas?”

“Mhmm,” she hummed, pulling strands of his curls around her fingers while her cold nose was pressed to his throat. “Can Miss Mouse come over to play?”

“Not today. She’s busy with her own celebrations.”

It was weird how calmly he could answer her. No twisted tongue sitting in his mouth like lead, no tensed stomach from an assault of nerves, no racing thoughts of you and Adrie becoming too close before he was ready to disappoint her. The fear was still there, of course. But he didn’t dread it. He held his daughter tucked against his body, and whispered into the unruly hair she inherited, “But she will soon, okay?”

“Yay!” She showed her excitement by constricting her arms around him in a perfect vice.

He wedged the unicorn between them and scooped her onto his hip. “What say you, Princess Adrienne? Shall we go in for a bit of Christmas morning casserole, and partake in reindeer games after getting you into your winter attire? Hmm?” She wasn’t responding. “Adrie?”

Her mouth was hung open, and her hand out, palm turned upward, making a grabby motion at something over his shoulder.

Eddie listened to her, and turned.

Snow fell, fell, fell from the low hanging clouds smudging the sky in shades of gray, bestowing the trailer park with fat flakes drifting beyond the safety of the porch, melting onto the dead grass and brushing past his car’s mirror. Pretty, pretty things of childlike magic Adrie caught on her fingertips. Special things floating to the edge of the wobbly floorboards, and sticking to his hair for her to laugh at.

“I love you,” he said in a kiss to her bitter cold cheek.

“Love you too, Daddy,” she replied in the same fashion, with an additional kiss from the unicorn to the tip of his nose.

Doors around the trailer park opened. Wide eyes of wonder gazed up, and around, searching for friends to celebrate with. Eddie felt exposed in his all black outfit against the growing landscape of white. They were looking at him. Judging him. Munson. But, unlike any other day, the desire to bolt from their intrusive stares dwindled with each graze of his thumb over the card in his pocket.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #mechanic!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #the yes policy

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dearlymrme · 1 year

Note

Hello! Could you do 35 (from the prompt list) with Copia? 💙

The way you write each of the boys feels so accurate- I come back to your blog and re-read your hcs and get so giddy whenever I get a notification that you had posted 💙

Thank you so much! I'm so happy you enjoy it and thanks for the ask.

Make 'Em Laugh (Copia x Reader)

Copia x Reader || Dad Jokes Should Be Their Own Warning || Oral Sex

It's a casual afternoon. Both you and Copia sit in his room on his couch. You sitting at one end with your Switch. He plays his Gameboy, laying on the other end with back against the armrest and socked feet just grazing your leg.

You simply enjoy each others company as you both do your own thing. You hear the tunes of Tetris from his device as you play a new game that had just released, one you had been looking forward to all year.

Then you hear it, a small and fauxly innocent snicker.

"No." You flat out deny. But your order goes ignored and the snickering continues. You take a deep and slow breath through your nostrils, praying for patience.

"My penis was in the Guinness Book of World Records, but the librarian told me to take it out."

You groan, hanging your head and tap your Switch against it. And by giving him his desired reaction he opens the floodgates.

"You know why you shouldn't go for a cheap circumcision? Because they're nothing but a ripoff." His delivery, choked on his own laughter, makes you close your eyes as you thin your mouth into a firm line, trying not to laugh at his horrible dad jokes.

No, you would not give him that satisfaction.

"Copia."

"I bought shoes from a drug dealer once. I don’t know what he laced them with but I was tripping all day." He laughs as you give a pathetic whine.

You settle at him with eyes begging for mercy.

"Please stop."

Only to be met with the tip of his tongue peaking from between his lips and a blown raspberry.

"Make me."

You toss your Switch to the side and quickly slink into his lap. His own Gameboy falls to the floor as he cinches his hands around your hips.

"Did you hear about the guy who dipped his nuts in glitter? Pretty nuts, right?" You quickly attack his lips that despite his laughter he eagerly returns.

Whether he gets you to laugh or not, it's always a win for him.

The kiss is desperate. Your tongue flickering against his that he graciously returns before sliding his hands from around your hips to your backside and squeezing your ass. His dick leaps against your mounds, steadily getting harder.

As you break for air he smiles against your jaw.

"Did I tell you the joke about the truck?" You groan in frustration at failing to get him to stop before deciding to bring out the big guns. That didn't work. it was time to do the thing that always works. Slapping his hands away from your rear, you travel down his body. "It's only semi-ah!" He hiccups as you pull down both his sweatpants and underwear to get at him.

"Your cock is only 'semi-hard.'" You respond with a snicker of your own before your on him. His dick is thick enough that there's a small pain in your jaw as you open to accommodate him. Half flaccid, though he does down your throat easily.

Copia hisses, hands fisting your hair as you lap your tongue against the head of his cock, savoring the salty taste, before devouring him completely. And there is no slow with you this time. You quickly start to bob your head and take him deeper with each pump.

"A...peanut walks in-fuck!!" He coughs as one of your hands reaches past his cock to squeeze at his sack. Your thumb brushes his testicles gently, as though asking forgiveness.

His hips start to rock along with your sucks as his eyes nearly roll as you pull off and flick your tongue around the bulbous head of his dick, flitting across his urethra and pressing into it. His jokes have turned to moans, and snickers have tuned into half stuttered begs.

"Close." Is his only warning before your hand squeezes him at the base and travels up his shaft, and his legs lock. You smirk as you see the skin of his lower stomach quiver before you expertly milk a jet of cum from his cock.

You immediately wrap your lips around his head and lathe your tongue against the underside of his gland as he releases into your mouth. You hear the cushions of the couch strain against his grip as he holds on for dear life.

It's quick, probably the fastest you've gotten him to cum to date, and as you swallow his release and pull of his cock you see him leaned back against the couch with his head nearly hanging over the armrest, his eyes closed and lips parted to a soft groan.

"Knew this would shut you up."

#copia #cardinal copia #dee answers #dee writes #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv x reader #copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader #reader insert #ghost the band #the band ghost #ghost band

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avvail-whumps · 10 months

Text

‘guns for hire’ — great escape #26

previous · masterlist · next

content warnings: whumpee referred to as “kid” but they’re an adult, defiant whumpee, manhandling, minor violence, blood, tranquillizers, non-con drugging, passing out

Leo hadn’t realised that maybe Roy was right about him being a fast runner. He didn’t look back for a second, his feet slapping against the dirt as twigs and leaves cut into his face and arms. A numbness was spreading through his ankles from the cold of the night creeping in, only the sound of his ragged breathing and frantic footsteps echoing through the trees.

He must have ran for ages. His throat was dry, lungs burning like a ferocious fire in his chest, so tight he didn’t think he could even draw another breath. His pulse hammered, the blood pumping through his head with a horrible pressure.

Even when his legs were buckling and he was staggering over his feet, he didn’t stop. The adrenaline urged him forward, unwilling to let his pace slow for a split second.

He couldn’t get caught.

It was too late now. Leo had bolted, and he couldn’t talk his way out of this. If Roy caught up up him, he didn’t even want to imagine what twisted punishment was awaiting for him. The looming threat over his father forced him to gather any strength, and push on.

The sky was getting darker by the time he was reduced to a pile of shaking limbs. His vision was spinning uncontrollably, a swimming nausea building up in his chest. He retched, hands bracing against a tree, the feeling returning to his feet. His socks were covered in dirt and leaves, having scuffed them against rocks and twigs along the way. They were aching in pain, even when he hobbled back to his feet to push on.

He didn’t want to stop.

Not for a second.

He threw cautious glances behind him, wincing through his teeth when his side would flare in pain. It was deathly quiet, no sign of anybody following him, and so he pushed on through clumsy steps.

The dirt track was somewhere to his right. If he squinted hard enough, then he could see it through the trees. But that was okay. He needed to stick to it so it could lead him back to a city, a town, or just somewhere he could call for help.

He had to get out.

Leo felt something sharp prick the back of his neck. A small gasp slipped past his lips, his ragged breathing almost stopping still. His feet staggered, bumping into a tree, the dirt cold beneath his feet. His shaking fingers stroked against the nape of his neck, barely gaining enough strength to pull something out.

He stared at the palm of his hand in shock.

It was little tranquillizer dart.

Leo’s hairs pricked on edge. A panic surged through him as he whipped around, eyes scanning the trees behind him fearfully. His thoughts reiterated sharp curses as he caught a black figure between the trees. Rifle clutched in his hands, carefully aiming down the sights.

Roy lowered it, but Leo was already bolting.

The adrenaline exploded and suddenly, the dizziness was gone, his strength returned. A cold terror gripped his heart. How had he been so close? Leo had thought he would’ve heard somebody running behind him, with the stark quietness of the forest, but there had been nothing.

Yet now, he could hear Roy catching up to him.

The terrifying thumping of his boots, the presence stinging the back of his neck. A sudden weight barreled into him, and Leo felt himself smacking onto the ground. He rolled through mud and dirt, twigs and leaves getting caught in his hair, before he slammed to a stop with a pained whine.

Before he could scramble to his feet, Roy was on him. Leo kicked and screamed as he settled his weight ontop of him, abruptly pinning him down to the ground. His hands punched and slapped at his chest, thrust into a blind panic.

“No!” He screamed, wrenching his head in an attempt to squirm his way out of Roy’s bruising grip. One gloved hand had snagged his wrist, while Leo’s other continued to bracket against his collarbone and shove him off. “Get away! Let me go!”

The mercenary wasn’t smiling. Even through his tear filled thrashes, he could see the coldness in his eyes.

“Go on, lion,” he said, voice dark. “Keep struggling. Make it worse for yourself.”

Leo lashed out, his nails raking down the side of Roy’s face. The man was momentarily stunned by the attack, gloved fingers brushing against the jagged cuts on his cheek. When he drew away, there was already blood. That caused a flicker of a smirk to arise on his lips.

Leo sobbed, frantically shaking his head. “Leave me alone!” He ground out, face twisted into a frustrated scowl. He was still terrified out of his mind, but Leo’s rationality was long gone. “Get off!”

Roy wasn’t budging. Even with the panicked adrenaline giving him a boost, he would never be able to throw the mercenary off with his bare hands. If he didn’t do something, he was going to be dragged back to the house.

“You know,” Roy drawled, the scratch marks on his face angry and red, beading with little pearls of blood. “I should be mad, lion, but I honestly can’t help but feel a little proud.”

His voice was a mocking, venomous whisper by his ear. Leo whined, wrenching his head away. His hand had long abandoned pushing against his chest, instead clawing at the dirt in an attempt to find something to grab.

“You got a good hit on Bran, you know,” he continued, his voice making his heart pound away in his chest. “He was bitching and whining. I’m impressed you almost got something through that thick skull of his.”

Roy’s hands fisted his shirt, slamming him against the ground violently. It caused his ribs to flare, knocking the wind out of his lungs. Before he could catch a breath, he did it again.

His eyes popped open, vision exploding with stars as the back of his skull bounced against the ground. His fingers curled around something solid. Something relatively big.

A gasped wheeze strangled in his throat, and he smacked the jagged rock into the side of Roy’s head. Just like Bran, the man was knocked slightly off center, but his grip hadn’t loosened an inch. Leo was already doing it again, striking his head, enough to wiggle his legs and sink a kick into his stomach. Roy jerked backwards, but it was enough for Leo to weasel his way out from under him.

He staggered when a wave of dizziness slammed into him, stumbling frantically away from the man. There was a stream of blood trickling down his forehead, and his cold eyes were narrowed in on him darkly. He seemed to be taking his time climbing to his feet, but Leo was already gone.

He sprinted faster than he’d ever sprinted before, smacking away the loose branches and leaves in his way, uncaring about the small little scratches and cuts tearing at his skin. The back of his neck was itching and Leo felt a horrible, nauseating feeling overpower him.

His vision was starting to scatter. Blur, swim, stretch and warp into unrecognisable shapes. Leo felt like his heart was lodged in his throat, a sudden throbbing sensation blooming in his skull.

He felt his anke snag on something, and suddenly Leo was falling. He landed face first into the dirt, body picking up a terrifying amount of speed as he began to tumble down the incline of the hill. He felt his wrist smack into something hard on the way down, his ribs screaming from the impact.

He could taste dirt on his tongue and copper running down his nose, before he stilled to a dizzying stop.

Leo’s shaking limbs twitched, trying to push himself up, but he collapsed with a wheezing gasp. Static engulfed his vision, and everything went black.

. . .

Leo woke up with sunlight on his face.

A horrible stiffness plagued his limbs, forcing himself to peel his eyelids open. A soft, wheezing cough rattled his lungs, feeling the caked dirt and small beads of blood sticking to his face.

Birds tweeted softly, and a quiet wind whistled past his ears. A numb throbbing was thumping in his head like a bass drum, pressing uncomfortably against the back of his eyes as he forced himself onto his knees.

A pained hiss escaped his lips from the pain in his stiff body.

Then he swiftly remembered what had happened. His sore eyes darted around, eyeing the forest with a slither of panic. His fingers instinctively reached for area where the dart that had hit the back of his neck, a sinking sensation of dread pooling in his stomach.

Leo scrubbed the dirt away as best as he could.

It was difficult to even get himself onto his shaking legs, bruised up and littered in various cuts. His socks were soaked through, chilling his feet to the bone. He used the trees to steady himself as he went, squinting through his blurring vision.

The dirt track was next to him. He kept back, eyeing the road wearily in case he recognised any cars passing. It was the crack of dawn, sun just starting to hang in the sky, so it would be much easier to see him.

He coughed, rattling his ribs.

He tried not to think about the miserable situation he was in.

He tried not to think about how easy it had been for Roy to catch up to him, no matter how fast he thought he’d been running. He tried not to let himself be discouraged, but a harrowing exhaustion was catching up to him.

Leo kept walking until he felt like he couldn’t stand up anymore. He collapsed beside a tree, his limbs shaking and his head swimming. Whatever tranquilizer Roy had used must have been a strong one, with its long lasting effects.

He curled up into a ball, knees to his chest, trying to work some feeling back into his feet. His heavy eyelids fluttered shut, attempting to blink back the little spots guarding the edge of his vision.

Leo perked up when he heard something.

A low rumbling of an engine, approaching from the distance. A shock of panic zapped down his spine, scrambling in an attempt to keep himself out of sight. But through the treeline, he could see the slow approaching car as it got closer.

It was red. A red car.

Leo’s heart picked up.

None of the mercenaries owned a red car.

The secretary leapt to his feet. All previous exhaustion was forgotten in the heat of the moment, bolting onto the treeline and onto the road. He began flailing his arms at the approaching car, heart hammering in his chest.

“Stop, stop, please!” He shouted, almost tripping over his feet as he stumbled towards the car. It rolled to a stop, and he almost slumped against the door, window being winded down. A beared stranger eyed him wearily, his eyes widening in shock.

“Please! Please, you have to help me,” Leo begged, his voice cracking as the panic began winding it’s way through each cell of his body. He needed to get out of here. He needed to escape. “I-I was kidnapped, sir, please...”

The man fumbled, his eyes blinking up at his battered up figure in disbelief. The car door popped open, and he instantly climbed out.

“Kidnapped? Oh, shit—wait, you’re the...” He struggled to get the words out. He was shrugging off his coat, and draping it over Leo’s shoulders. He wasn’t wearing Roy’s. “You’re the kid that’s on the news, oh my god...”

Leo’s chest caved in, and he broke down into wet sobs. He was on the news — that meant people were looking for him.

“Help me, please!” He pleaded, tasting a horrible mix of dirt, salt and copper on his tongue. The man leaned over and jabbed something on his dashboard. He heard a distinct clicking sound.

“Get in, kid, come on.”

Leo didn’t have to be told twice. With his heart racing in his ears, he rushed to clamber into the passager seat, guided by the helpful man, who seemed just as panicked as he did. His trembling fingers gripped onto the coat, hearing him shut the door. The car smelled faintly of lavender.

The stranger quickly hopped into the drivers seat, and jerked out his phone.

“I’m going to call the police, okay?” He forced out, jabbing at his phone screen. Leo almost went hysterical, shaking his head frantically.

“No!” He cried, startling the man. He lurched forward in his seat, twisting to face him. “No, please, you have to start driving! Turn around and drive, please, I’m begging you!”

The man let out a shaking breath. “Okay, okay! I’m going!”

The car smoothly turned around, and Leo threw a terrified glance over his shoulder as he searched the disappearing dirt path for any sign of another car or a mercenary lingering in the treeline. He pressed the back of his head against the headrest, dissolving into exhausted sobs.

The man was cautiously glancing over at him, also checking the mirrors, almost like he was paranoid.

“You’re okay, kid,” he assured, although he wasn’t very good at it. Stiff and awkward, but Leo appreciated the gesture regardless. “You said...you were kidnapped?”

Leo frantically nodded his head. The man let out a puff of air.

“I’m Michael, and you’re the Whitlock kid,” he mumbled, as if he was stating the facts for himself. He motioned down for a moment, jerking his chin. “My phone is just under the hand break, there. You can call the police while we’re driving, okay? I got lost, actually. It’s good I ran into you. Jesus...”

Leo’s chest deflated. “Thank you...” He choked, grabbing the phone. “Thank you so much.”

tag list – @unorganisedalienrubbish @d-cs @rabidrabidme @sordayciega @burningkittypoet @burningkittypoet @mannerofwhump @suspicious-whumping-egg @welcome-to-the-whumpfest @whatwasmyprevioususername @crilex29 @firefly017 @dutifullykrispyland @wibbly-wobbly-whump @there-will-always-be-blood @anonintrovert @justawhumpjunkie @whumptastic-world @ha-ha-one @whatwhumpcomments @whumpterful-beeeeee @anonymous1235 @sonder35 @unforgiven235 @whumpasaurus101 @mj-or-say10 @professional-idiocy @seaweed-is-cool @theelvishcowgirl

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hcneymccn · 2 years

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Wait omg... How you ever considered the stuck in wall trope with enstars characs 😳😳😳😳 imagine being nonconned by natsume or whoever passing by

little ramble for this ask before class starts! aah, i rlly need to organize my blog soon :(

CW; NSFW, noncon, drug / aphrodisiac use, reader is gn but they do wear the female yumenosaki uniform, pet names (kitten cause it’s natsume), grinding, manipulation.

this trope always makes me giggle cause it’s soooo random, so i hadn’t thought abt it til now, but there really is a lot to consider!

natsume especially, i think, is one of the people most likely to do so - and he can get away with it. or at least, he thinks he can. after all, he’s a magician, so it’s not completely out of pocket for him to offer to fix your current predicament with a spell. of course, you’re immune to most of his magic, but nobody is immune to a potion or two. now, potions aren’t exactly the right word, it’s more like aphrodisiacs.

he starts by rubbing the oils onto your uncovered thighs, having pulled your socks downwards. when you yelp and ask him what he’s doing, natsume shushes you, a soft, reassuring sound that reveals itself as a puff of warm breath on your inner thighs, reassuring you that it’s alright and he’s only preparing the spell. soon after, your lower body feels hot, agitated, you keep squirming and rubbing your thighs together, a tingling sensation spreading all the way up to your core.

“n-natsume, it… feels weird.”

and this is natsume’s cue to smirk victoriously, because it worked, and here you are, lower half being the only thing visible and your thighs rubbing against each other while your hips rock slowly but subtly against the flat surface of the wall, desperate for friction but finding none. it’s all too easy for him to grab your hips and force them still, delighting in the loud but confused whine he receives from you.

he tuts at you, cooing at how needy and slutty you look in this position. do you know how embarrassing you look? (as if he wasn’t the one who got you into this mess).

he easily flips your skirt up, hands finding purchase once more on your hip bones, and rolls his hips into your ass, eyes rolling into the back of his head when he hears you let out of a cry. he can’t tell if it’s out of panic or pleasure, but frankly, he doesn’t really care. natsume figures it’s both.

“quiet dOWN, kitten. you wouldn’t want anyone to hear yOU, would yOU?”

#natsume sakasaki x reader #ensemble stars x y/n #ensemble stars x reader smut #ensemble stars smut #ensemble stars x reader #enstars smut #enstars x reader #natsume sakasaki x reader smut

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cowteapot · 2 years

Text

Boyfriend HC

Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: mentions of sex, swearing, drug use

———————————————————————

Eddie likes to read, he likes laying in bed with you, your head on his chest with a book propped up on your spine. He mumbles the words quietly and occasionally rubs your head

He likes to make you mixtapes, he loves putting songs you both love and songs you’ve never heard before. He especially loves cutting pieces of tape and writing in bright green sharpie little labels like “Y/N’s super rocking mixtape from their super rocking boyfriend” or “songs we should bang to????”

He’s a stinky dirty boy, like this man is greasy and sometimes it gets to the point that you can’t even be nice anymore. “Cuddles?” “No. Eddie I love you but oh my god please go shower” it usually ends with him chasing you around his trailer trying to make you sniff his armpit as you scream and run away

He can’t be serious for more than thirty minutes, he could literally be inside you and then just start giggling “what?” “Nothing, it’s just. Do you think the trailers rocking?” He’d go into a fit of laughs that would immediately make you start laughing and he’d have to pull back and regain himself

He’s hyper, like the two of you could be laying down, you asleep and then he’d turn and wiggle you awake “w-what?!” You’d be shocked, hair stuck to your face and eyes crusty from sleep to look up at the dark eyes and large grin “you wanna learn to play guitar?” Eddie’s ass would be jumped up and grabbing his guitar, throwing it in your lap before you could even process anything

He’s an open boy, he’s gives no shits. Two of you could be doing something so romantic and he’d be leaned it close to kissing you and then stop and go “you have a zit.” That would end with him straddling you as you wiggle around trying to push him away as he holds you down fighting to pop the zit he found

He tries to buy you presents, yes he has shoplifted a lot of things for you but he really wants to buy you things with his own hard earned money, he’d spend hours in Macys staring at jewelry. The sales lady would stand to the side glaring at him making sure he didn’t swipe anything (he did when she wasn’t looking) as he struggled to find you the perfect but affordable piece

He’s a child. Imagine this, the two of you are outside on the Fourth of July, all of the kids outside playing with Roman candles and he turns to you, getting real close making it look like you’re gonna get a nice sweet kiss before he reaches out and smacks you on the arm screaming “tag you’re it” and sprints off leaving you and all the kids running around as you try and tag them back

If you don’t play D&D Eddie will sit there for hours telling you about the game he recently played with Hellfire, in his terms it’s actually a quest he went on. You could be sitting there listening to him dozing off and he’d shove you’re shoulder “y/n hey, listen this is important” and he’d go on and on, if you do play you’re definitely apart of Hellfire

Eddie will roll the joints and you’d light, sometimes if he’s to lazy he’ll have you do it, he’ll pull out his rolling tray and place it in your lap before walking you through each step for the perfect joint. He will 100% celebrate when you finish, high fives and kisses and praises of “good job baby it looks so good!”

He’s disgusting. Cigarette butts in his bed sheets, socks with his toes sticking out the top, toilet has piss stains all over it, empty soda cans and beer bottles all over the floor, half eaten moldy sandwiches everywhere and you constantly have to remind him to brush his teeth

When it’s just the two of you he’ll pull his hair up into a bun and will even let you sit there and braid it or put it in pigtails. He loves when you play with his hair, he’ll let you straighten it, curl it, fluff it, braid it, put it in space buns, pin it back but he especially loves when you pull on ;)

He’s a fantastic cook! During his days off from work, School, D&D and practice/shows he likes to sit and watch cooking shows. Eddie also spends lots of time meal prepping for Wayne and himself

He’s an night owl, up late even if you’re not. He’s okay with you sleeping as he stays up entertaining himself. Eddie for sure has insomnia and just can’t go to bed, he knows you’ll try and stick it out with him but he prefers that you lay down and get your beauty sleep even if he has to sit and read you to bed, he appreciates the effort though.

For sure not a morning person, when he does finally fall asleep it would take a war to wake him up. You could hit him with the pillows, shake him, slap him, scream in his face but this man sleeps like the dead. His body tangled in the sheets, hair strewn about as he’s snoring so loud you wanna choke him out, when he finally wakes up he’s gonna need a smoke, two cups of coffee, maybe some head and just silence. He needs time to wake up and process the day ahead of him

For a metal head you’d expect him to like halloween? Hates it, he hates being scared and he hates all the kids dressed as zombies. He likes fall though, he likes pumpkins and the smell of the many candles, he loves the fallen leaves and cold crisp air, he likes the kids halloween maze and the fair

You’re his personal chauffeur, you’ll come pick him up and drive him around town. He obviously will try and shove gas money into the waist band of your pants like you’re a stripper but you’d pull it out and shove it down his shirt, you only accept heated kisses as your payment

Eddie is clumsy, you’re forced to keep a little first aid kit on you at all times. When the two of you are walking around town Eddie would trip over something like a little lip in the sidewalk and cut his hands open or he’d be climbing the two steps into his trailer and trip smacking his head into the door. You’re always patching his dumbass up

He likes to read to you, you buy him books and he’ll narrate, he does accents and waves his arms around, “he slashes the sword at the man’s throat, missing by mere inches!” He’ll sun wave his arm out like he’s slashing a sword, eyes wide open as he reads, his voice hard and loud as he speaks. Sometimes he’ll even stand up on the bed and act out the scene he’ll even pull you up and force you to act it with him

Eddie likes to burp in your face, i don’t know why but I feel like he does. He’s gross I just know it, you could be making out and he’ll pull back and belch real loud, before bursting out laughing “that was a good one Ed’s.” “RIGHT!”

You two always hang out at his trailer, just sitting around, playing guitar, banging, going out and terrorizing the trailer park kids, talking, reading, watching movies. He doesn’t really like your family, your parents make him feel uncomfortable, they obviously have heard the rumors of Eddie being a drug dealer which is true

Eddie cuddles in particular way. He just throws himself on top of you, shoved his head into the crook of your neck, places a knee between your legs and the other one thrown over your waist, his hands tangled in your hair as you have your arms wrapped around his midsection. Blankets are never needed because he warms you ip in a matter of seconds. If you’re sweating, suck it up cause he’s not moving

Eddie is clingy, out in public his hand is in yours, if he’s overstimulated he’s clinging to you with his head in your hair begging to go home and cuddle “y/n. Y/n/. Y/n.” “What.” “I don’t wanna be here anymoreeeee” Eddie is like a baby with a time limit before he’s on the verge of having a fit

Eddie’s in charge of music. Always. You’re driving, he’s choosing the songs. Cooking together, he’s picking the tunes, banging, he’s got a mixtape. Eddie is 100% a music snob and needs to be in charge of the music or he looses his mind

He was the first and last to say “I love you.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #boyfriend headcanons

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stylecouncil · 2 years

Text

The Art Of Falling Apart

“Brett Anderson looks like a runaway from a detox clinic. He's wearing frayed Levi's, odd socks, a shapeless black T-shirt and dying shoes. He gazes blankly at the world through painfully red eyes, and speaks through a permanent sniff in a theatrical London drawl that trails off into an introspective slur. At other times he whines like a girl, toys nervously with his hair and regularly scratches and picks at some reddening scabs on his arms. He laughs when I ask him if he's wasting away on heavy drugs. "When you're sucked through this media machine and run under the wheels of the star machine, you can go to bed with a cup of cocoa and wake up looking like Bela Lugosi in the morning." Trashed on success, then. Brett could pass for one of the heroic victims that inhabit his songs; wasted from too much youth, bad drugs and violent sex. This is the mythology of Suede: eternal teenagers hooked on downers, sleeping pills and self-abuse, chasing a soundtrack of swooning guitars under the cold lights of some vicious city. In rock 'n' roll terms, it's X-Ray Spex's gritty urban alienation combined with The Smiths' heartfelt indie-passion and topped with the dispassionate slide into kinky junkie doom of Lou Reed's Berlin and Bowie's tarty Jean Genie. The core elements are familiar, but two years ago Suede injected the shock of simply being Suede into their plagiarisms and somersaulted into full-blown fame. On stage, Brett used his mic as if it was a cock, whip and bondage cord to encircle his thighs in a brazenly, transgressively sexual gesture. On Top Of The Pops, he jiggled kitten-like hips in low-slung trousers while a cropped top revealed a wiggling navel that both startled and simply turned people on. They released defiant singles like Animal Nitrate, a sleazy soap-opera that thrust unheard of amounts of rough trade and S&M imagery into the charts. Before they'd even finished their debut LP, Suede had appeared on 19 different magazine covers and, when it was released in March '93, the eponymous record sold over 100,000 copies in just two days. One year later and Brett sits on the floor of an East London photographic studio talking about his past, his future and what it's like to be a pop star - while I wonder if he's got enough energy and vision to be anything more than last year's model or this year's casualty.”

October 1994

#brett anderson #suede

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brighteyedbushybrowed · 1 year

Text

𝐁𝐨𝐨𝐭 𝐑𝐚𝐭

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 Mary loves watching his little Rat pleasuring himself like this.

𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐩(𝐬) Mary x Copia (Mary is trans and AFAB in this fic)

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 Smut (18+ only, MINORS DNI or I'll take one sock from each pair of socks you own so that you never have a matching pair for the rest of your life). Boot humping, pet play, oral (Mary receiving), descriptors of cock, dick, clit, and nub used to describe Mary's genitals so if any of these terms are uncomfortable or triggering please don't read!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 849 words

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 Listen. Listen, okay. I'm so weak for Copia dressed as a little rat. The terms I have used to describe Mary's genitals are words that I use to describe my own as a trans AFAB person, but I'm aware that there are trans AFAB ppl who don't like to use some of the terms I have so if these make you uncomfortable or dysphoric please don't read. Your comfort is much more important than a fic! This hasn't been proofread bc I'm actually in the middle of a lesson lsekndsfjhd

𝐊𝐨-𝐟𝐢 𝐓𝐢𝐩 𝐉𝐚𝐫

Mary can’t help but salivate at the sight before them. Had you told them an hour ago this was how their evening was going to pan out they’d have laughed and told you to stop doing so many drugs. But now, as they sit back in their makeshift throne, they think that maybe this is the best turn of events that could have been thrown their way.

“What’s wrong, Rat? Not enough for you?” His voice is taunting as he smirks down at the man at his feet. “You know what to do if you want more. Come on. Say it.”

His little rat, decked out in grey and silver silks and lace, bucks his hips with a whine. For the most part, his Papal paints are still in place. It’s only the lips that are smudged, black and white smearing into a mess of grey from where Mary’s lips have melded against his in a bruising kiss.

“Please,” Copia hisses through gritted teeth, “I need more.”

They hum and lean forward, running a hand through the tousled brown and grey hair atop his head. “More what?”

There’s a moment of hesitation and Mary wonders if they’ve pushed too far too soon. They’re both new to this relationship and this dynamic and the last thing Mary wants is to push Copia into a place that he feels uncomfortable and resentful. He’s not said the safe word yet, however, and that’s the only reason they’ve not ended the scene.

Averting his gaze, the former cardinal speaks once more. “I need more, Master. Please, give me more.”

Relieved, they lean back and begin to press their boot a little harder against Copia’s clothed cock. Their lover moans and tilts his head back as he bites his lip, exposing his bare neck and the bites that adorn his blushing skin.

“Go ahead, my little Rat. I know you want to.”

He practically purrs as he watches and feels Copia hump and rock against the sole of his boot. Papa’s hands, clad in fingerless grey gloves with a squishy pad of pink attached to his palms, grip onto Mary’s boot as he pleasures himself. It’s an unreasonably arousing vision that makes his cock twitch in the confines of his ripped jeans. He palms it, releasing a shuddering sigh as Copia watches him.

“Oh, Master, please let me watch you touch yourself. Need to see how good you feel.”

Mary doesn’t need any further encouragement or persuasion, momentarily taking his foot away from Copia’s groin as he pulls his jeans and boxers down to his ankles and spreads his legs at the knees. Copia shuffles over to the foot he’d been humping and desperately lifts it back into position, licking his lips as he watches his partner run a couple of fingers through his slit and up to his engorged nub.

“Is this what you wanted to see, Rat? Hm?” They gather slick with their middle finger and their hips jolt briefly as it comes into contact with their clit. “Wanted to see my pretty little cock while you fuck yourself on my foot? Such a dirty little Rat.”

The former cardinal mewls, nodding his head as he rolls his hips against the bottom of their boot. “W-want to suck it, Master. Can I suck it? Please?”

Mary’s hand threads through brown and grey hair as they push Copia’s head down to where they both want it most. A gasp followed by a soft moan tumbles from Mary’s lips as their Rat wraps his lips around their cock and sucks, tongue flicking against the sensitive nerves. He’s still humping Mary’s boot, sucking and rocking his hips in tandem. The quiet slurps and groans emanating from between their thighs has more slickness dripping from their core as they tip their head back and allow the pleasure to wash over them.

“Good Rat. Such a good, filthy Rat for Master. Gonna make me cum if you don’t stop.”

Copia’s tongue swipes through Mary’s folds, lapping up his arousal, before replacing it with two of his fingers and returning to sucking his dick. The slow but firm thrust and curl of his fingers bring Mary ever closer to his end, the pleasure coiling in his abdomen and stretching the band tighter and tighter. He’s humping the boot faster now, hips stuttering and faltering as he approaches his climax too.

It's with a shout and the jittering of his hips that Mary cums, fingers tugging at Copia’s messy hair as they ride out the high of their orgasm. Not even a second later, their beloved Rat stops moving and whimpers against their sensitive nub as he crashes over the edge and climaxes. They both pant as the wave washes over them and they finally come down from their highs.

Mary smiles drowsily as he grasps Copia’s chin and tilts it up, both to look at him and to remove his face from his overstimulated dick. He already knows without looking that some of the paint will have transferred to his thighs.

“Good Rat. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

#spicy content #mary goore #cardinal copia #papa emeritus iv #mary goore x cardinal copia #mary goore x papa emeritus iv #the band ghost #repugnant #smut #fanfic #my fanfic #mine

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