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rip-quizilla · 2 months

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You Could Kill Me (and You Should)

Pairing: Vampire!Eddie Munson X Slayer!Reader

Word Count: 16k

Tags: SMUT🔥🔥🔥, dubious consent, memory alteration, reader's pronouns aren't specified, reader has a vagina, oral sex, p in v sex, blood drinking, blood kink, unprotected sex, squirting, dom/sub undertones, vampire sex, references to Buffy the Vampire Slayer (but you don't have to be familiar to understand this story)

A/N: please read the tags! This work contains depictions of blood and VERY adult content. Minors, do not interact!

Bat divider made by @saradika ❤️

Hunting on game nights was never ideal.

There were too many people around… the double-edged sword of vampire hunting. The great throngs of people made it easy for a poor soul to get lost in the fray, so it brought the baddies out into the open. On the flip side of that coin, what made an ideal hunting ground for vamps created a field of landmines for a Slayer. Throngs of people meant infinite chances to get caught in the open with a wooden stake in your hand, and that brought too many questions.

Still, you could deal with humans; you had been your whole life. Hawkins, Indiana was just like any other town- people would believe what they wanted to believe, and you knew exactly how to spin a story into something they’d find acceptable.

However, if you got caught out in the moonlight with the specific vamp you were hunting, you knew you’d attract the wrong kind of attention. You wanted to fly under the radar here; it was the only way you’d be able to live here long enough to stave off the influx of demons that liked to slip in time to time from the Upside Down- the hell that waited on the other side of this reality. Not every town was as connected to it as Hawkins was, but then again, not every town sat on top of a Hellmouth.

A sound from behind you perked up the hairs at the back of your neck. You turned, making sure the brick wall of Hawkins High protected your back as you surveyed the empty courtyard before you. Everyone within a mile radius who still had a beating heart was in the gym, cheering on the Hawkins Tigers in hopes that the subpar basketball team might actually take home a win tonight.

Well… everyone except for you, whose heart was beating alarmingly fast for someone who had slain so many bloodsuckers that you’d lost count. Why were you this nervous? Aw, who were you kidding, you knew why.

You weren’t hunting just any vampire this time. You were hunting Eddie Munson.

You steadied your turncoat heart with a slow, deep breath. “Stop kidding around, Munson,” you said, keeping your voice low and eerily calm. “You know why I’m out here and I know you’ll only hurt me if you have to, so let’s just cut the formalities and have a little chat.”

A rumbling chuckle sounded from above, and when your eyes flicked up to the sky they were met with the sight of the most elusive and cunning vamp you’d ever had the displeasure of hunting.

Eddie Munson. Or, as he was known amongst the town’s community of bloodsuckers, Kas the Bloody Handed.

“Little chat, huh?” Eddie’s smiling voice echoed from where he sat on the edge of the rooftop above you. “Put away the stake and we’ll talk, Slayer.”

You kept your eyes on him, narrowing your gaze but complying nonetheless. You pocketed the stake, shifting your brown leather jacket to the side and sliding the wooden spike into your waistband.

Were you dealing with any other vamp, you would have laughed in their face at the demand that you disarm yourself when vampires had nearly every advantage against you. You had Slayer strength, sure- but that was it. These demons had speed, strength, teeth, claws- the fact that sunlight would incinerate them was really their only weakness besides their need for blood.

Correction- sunlight should incinerate them. Sunlight didn’t affect Eddie Munson. That wasn’t the only thing that didn’t seem to affect him- bloodlust was apparently not an issue either, seeing how he was a student. At a high school. A building just teaming with sweaty, hormonal teens who were just itching to do something stupid- one would assume that a vampire in a place like that would be draining cheerleaders left and right, but not Eddie. In fact, you’d been watching him for months now since you moved to Hawkins, and you’d never even seen him hurt a fly. Hell, you’d seen kids try and beat him up and yet he hadn’t so much as made a fist since the first time you laid eyes on him.

That was why you’d sought him out tonight- this vampire wasn’t killing people, and it was making you suspicious.

Once your weapon had been safely tucked away, Eddie hopped down from his insane height at the top of the school building and landed swiftly and quietly on his feet in front of you. He smiled at you lazily, his eyes twinkling with the curiosity and glee that came with sharing a secret.

“Excuse my forwardness, but I’ve gotta know-” Eddie began, hands in his pockets as he slowly sauntered toward you. “-how long did I have you going before you figured me out?”

You pushed off the wall, casually placing your hands behind your back as you matched his stride in the opposite direction. You were circling each other, two predators locked in a deadly dance.

“You’re a pretty good actor, Munson.” you replied, voice lighter than air but balanced out by the unwavering rock-solid gaze that remained locked on him. “I might not have figured it out at all if your friend at the hospital hadn’t spilled the beans.”

That got his attention. “Annie ratted me out?” His eyebrows were practically synonymous with his hairline. “Impossible.”

You shrugged. “Apparently HIPAA laws don’t apply to secret bloodbag dealers and their demon customers. In her defense, she was pretty tight-lipped until I had convinced her I wasn’t trying to kill you.”

That stopped Eddie in his tracks. He peered at you through his curtain of moonlit curls, his gaze suspicious and unsure. “You’re not?”

You stood squarely before him at ease. “Nope.” you replied brightly. “And I don’t think you’re trying to kill anyone either… are you, Kas?”

His suspicion gave way to a blinding smile. “Well someone’s been doing their research!” You blinked and he was inches away, his enhanced speed catching you off guard; you instinctively took a step back before instantly regretting it. Eddie caught your momentary lapse in stature and his grin crept upwards in one corner. “Tell you what, killer, how ‘bout we put a pin in all your fun little Kas facts and cut to the chase, hm?”

In a flash his hand held your chin firmly. Your grip flew to the back of your waistband, fingertips already caressing the smooth wood of your stake. You mirrored each other, the two of you standing in a twin stance with one foot placed in front of the other a shoulder’s width apart, his hand at your jaw and yours ready to stake the bastard at the first sign of a threat.

“You’re here to protect people,” Eddie continued, “and I don’t plan on hurting anyone. We can coexist here, it isn’t that complicated.”

“I’m here to slay vampires.” You corrected, but Eddie only grinned and shook his head.

“See, that’s not true- you would have killed me already.” He leaned in, a smug smile only taking up more space on his countenance. “Ain’t that right, Slayer?”

You’d expected that the decision to let Eddie live would come back to bite you in the ass, but surprisingly enough, nothing changed.

You went to school. You hunted. You did normal teenager things. Not once did you witness Eddie Munson do a single thing out of the ordinary.

Well…out of his ordinary. For a bloodsucking demon hiding among human teenagers, he liked attention far more than you’d expected. The more you thought about it, however, the more you saw his reputation for being the town freak as a genius cover. He was hiding in plain sight; any weird behavior would simply be written off as a cry for attention from Hawkins’ resident eccentric. If he wanted to, Eddie could be getting away with a lot more than stolen blood bags.

So why wasn’t he?

You wanted answers, and surprisingly enough you had a feeling that it wouldn’t take too much for him to give them to you. You just needed to find a private place to ask him. Word travels like wildfire after a drought in Hawkins, and even if Eddie didn’t mind the attention, you on the other hand did. You couldn’t afford for people to start associating you with him, so you’d passed Eddie a note at lunch to meet you out in the woods at the old picnic table.

“Did you know I used to do drug deals in this exact place?”

His voice sounded wistful as his body weight caused the weakened wooden bench to creak when he sat down with you later that afternoon. “Those were the days, man.”

You snorted. “You mean the days when you were human? Or are you a bloodsucker and a pill pusher? That’s an intersectionality I can’t say I’ve encountered before-”

“Back when I was human, smartass.” He cut you off, rolling his eyes. “Now, why did Hawkins’ shiny new vampire slayer invite me to meet in the middle of the woods? All alone?” he pretended to think it over for a second, feigning epiphany when his eyes widened and his brows shot up his forehead. His voice quivered, apparently auditioning to play the role of the victim in a slasher film. “Are you g-g-gonna k-k-kill me?” He braced his hands against the edge of the picnic table, scrambling to the ground as he amped up the drama while you watched, forcing a smile at bay.

“P-p-please, don’t s-s-slay me, almighty S-Slayer!”

You snorted, shaking your head, unable to completely stop the ghost of a grin from sliding across your lips. “Having fun?” you snarked.

It took only a millisecond- in a blur of supernatural vampire speed, he was back up on his feet and sitting on the surface of the table. “Lots!” His smile was overwhelming- it was easygoing, unguarded, and above all things it was so human. It was disconcerting.

“The reason I asked you out here,” you said, getting down to business. “Is because I have some questions for you.”

The vampire’s eyes narrowed, that smile staying firmly planted on his lips. “I’m sure you do.”

“How can you be out in the sunlight without bursting into flames?” Every vampire you’d ever encountered would be reduced to ashes if they dared to step out the door in broad daylight, yet here was Eddie Munson- 100% bloodsucker, 100% sitting on a picnic bench and soaking up the rays that filtered in through the cover of tree branches.

“I know a witch.” Eddie replied, eyes following you as you paced around the picnic table. “She did a spell. Next question?”

You raised an eyebrow, “Who’s the witch?”

“Not telling.”

“I figured.” you lamented. “Do the blood bags satisfy you as much as fresh blood?”

Eddie was quiet for a moment, then replied with a curt “They’re enough.”

“Enough to stave off the urge to- I don’t know- murder?”

His head whipped sharply in your direction, expression souring. “Have you seen me kill anyone? In all the time you’ve been here, have you ever seen me so much as harm someone?”

You paused. “No.”

Jutting out his chin triumphantly, he straightened his posture a bit. “Then stick to relevant questions, alright killer?”

You narrowed your eyes on him. “Your bloodlust isn’t relevant?”

He scoffed, tightening his grip on the edge of the tabletop he still sat on, and you could have sworn you heard the wood creaking beneath his white knuckles. “You may not be from Hawkins, but with that self-righteous, bigoted attitude you could’ve fooled me.” His head was hanging down, Eddie’s dark eyes trained on his Reebocks which dangled from where he sat.

When he looked up at you through his long, chestnut curls, the gaze he gave you was so disappointed, so intense, that you actually felt a pang of guilt even though you hadn’t done anything wrong. You’d accused a vampire of having bloodlust. What was there to feel guilty for?

“You’re a vampire, Munson. A demon.” you stated, matter of factly. “You need blood to survive, and you’re a killer by nature-”

“You’ve done more killing in this town than I have,” he laughed humorlessly, his voice tinged with exasperation. “-and I’ve lived here my entire life!” Eddie hopped off the tabletop, shaking his head. “I thought you wanted to have an actual conversation with me, but if you’re here to point out splinters and ignore the stakes, then I’m gone. Go interrogate some other vampire.”

You stood your ground, watching Eddie walk back towards Hawkins High as you felt that guilt crawl into your chest and start to burrow there.

You found it ironic that the Hideout was known for both being the bar in town that never carded, and being the bar that vampires frequented the most. It resulted in a clientele that was either immortal or too young to be there.

Your presence in town had slowed down vampire activity quite a bit, but apparently that hadn’t been enough of a deterrent to rid the dive bar of their undead customers for the night. After a few years of slaying, you’d learned how to distinguish between prey and predator- there weren’t too many people in the bar since it was a Tuesday night, but that only made it easier to single them out.

You knew what to look for: eyes that swept the room to sort out the hierarchy of those present. Skin that lacked the plumpness and healthy complexion that came with blood running freely through the veins beneath. Behaviors that reflected an intention to single out the weak and alone before isolating them, going in for the kill.

Unfortunately, they weren’t who you were here for. Tonight, your attendance wasn’t attributed to any run-of-the-mill vampires.

Funny enough, you were here to see the band.

You sipped on your glass of cranberry juice, watching warily as tonight’s headliner situated themselves on the small almost-stage in the corner of the tiny bar. Long dark curls shadowed eyes that followed you with equal wariness, unsure of why you were here but intrigued nonetheless.

Sitting stationary at the bar with your glass sweating in your hand, you took in the spectacle before you- four boys who looked fairly human, setting the crowd ablaze with songs about nonconformity, rebellion, and hellish imagery. Funnily enough, humans and vampires alike were all watching them, heads bobbing to the thrum of the baseline, all of them united in their quest to distract themselves from life- or afterlife- for the night.

You’d always loved how music did that- it brought together folks of all shapes and sizes, political ideals, religions, backgrounds… and it gave them something to agree on. Music made people feel something. Whether you were alive or undead didn’t seem to matter; people loved to feel things.

To your chagrin, you found yourself tapping out the melodies along with the crowd, bouncing your knee in time with Eddie’s band’s music. They were- surprisingly- not bad. The place was small enough that even though you were seated at the bar, you were able to get a good look at each of the band members over the course of their set. You recognized some of them from school- Grant was a nice guy, you had some classes with him. Gareth was… shy? Standoffish? Either way, he kept to himself and away from everyone who wasn’t Eddie- typical behavior for a vampire. Now, seeing the pallor of his skin compared to the lively flush of his bandmates, you were all but sure he was a vampire; one of Eddie’s underlings, no doubt.

You’d figured out as much information about Eddie Munson’s standing in Hawkins’ vampire community as you thought you’d be likely to get, being a vampire slayer in a town fraught with vampires. He was the first to become a vampire the Hawkins way, and that afforded him a certain level of respect among vampires here. Other than that, you were flying blind.

Vampires existed in many forms across the world- name a continent, and you could rattle off some fun facts about that region’s particular breed of bloodsucker. Some born, some made, some immortal, some not- and they all had their own particular set of characteristics that set them apart and made slaying even more complicated. Eddie Munson had been the first of a new breed of vampire, and that’s why your watcher had sent you here; not only to slay, but to collect data.

The audience’s applause for Corroded Coffin’s final song faded into a dull chatter and the clinking of bar glasses, and your attention snagged on Eddie as you watched him amble off the stage in your direction. The other band members stayed where they were, shifting around as they began packing up their instruments. Gareth’s eyes stayed on Eddie, narrowing when they crossed over his shoulder and landed on you.

“Didn’t take you for a metal fan, Slayer.” Eddie murmured just loud enough for you to hear him over the din of noisy patrons.

You shrugged, sipping from your glass. “I listen to a little bit of everything. You guys aren’t bad.” Eddie hopped up onto the stool beside you, nodding to the bartender in a silent exchange. A half second later, Eddie had a freshly opened can of PBR sweating in his hand.

“Thanks.” He was eyeing you warily, sipping slowly from his can. “So what are you doing here?”

He didn’t bullshit around when there was an elephant in the room… you guessed you appreciated that. “I wanted to see you in your element.”

He snorted into his silver can. “In my element, huh? Wouldn’t that be -I don’t know- catching me in the act of ripping someone’s throat out? Draining the blood from a litter of kittens or something?”

A pang of guilt threatened to nudge its way through to your eyes, but you didn’t let it get that far. “No,” You replied, “you said it yourself, I’ve never actually seen you hurt anyone. Or even try, actually.”

His gaze was measured, eyeing you up and down as if scanning you for some indication that you were planning on staking him right here and now. You waited for him to speak but surprisingly he didn’t, so you continued.

“I’d like to propose a truce.”

Eddie smirked slightly, the corner of his mouth tugging upwards enough to call into action the dimple hidden in his cheek. “Didn’t know we were fighting, I sure as hell haven’t been getting in your way, have I?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you’re getting at? You want an apology?” As Eddie’s smirk grew wider, your mouth moved in the opposite direction, lips forming a hard, tense line as you glared at the smug bloodsucking bastard before you.

“I’m a Slayer. I’ve traveled all over the world with the sole purpose of killing vampires just like you-”

“There are no vampires like me, sweetheart.”

You snorted. “Yeah yeah, you’re so unique, we’re all aware.” You downed the last swig of your drink. “Can I finish now?”

He nodded, that grin still growing along his lips.

“Every vampire I’ve ever met has wanted to kill people. Forgive me for having my defenses up when I came across one that didn’t.” Eddie’s eyes softened, as did the corners of his mouth. His smug grin now seemed a little more understanding, and maybe a little sympathetic. That last bit made you bristle.

“I’m not saying this for your sympathy, I just want you to know where I was coming from when I made assumptions about your…”

“I believe the term you used was ‘bloodlust’?” Eddie supplied, his tone accusatory but not altogether unfriendly.

You sighed heavily. “I made assumptions. I’m sorry about that.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side, digesting your apology. Finally, “Buy a round for me and my band and I’ll forgive you.”

The stipulations of your truce were laid out the next day at lunch. You were able to convince Eddie to leave his cronies’ lunch table in the cafeteria in favor of a more private place to discuss your terms- the picnic table out in the woods.

As per your side of the deal, Eddie would provide you a list of names of vampires that he knew followed the same lifestyle as him- purchase blood from his supplier at the hospital, go about their normal lives, and never harm a living soul. You would refrain from hunting any of them.

Eddie’s side of the deal: he promised not to interfere with the slaying of any vampires in town who didn’t subscribe to his way of life; in other words, if they tried to hurt a human or drink from any living animals in town, they were fair game for slaying. In addition, Eddie would provide you any information you needed about Hawkins Vampires, and you would relay that data to the Watchers’ Council for them to enter into their database.

Unsurprisingly, Gareth Emerson’s name was at the top of Eddie’s list of vampires under his protection. When you saw it, you chuckled.

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Surprised?”

“Not in the slightest.” you laughed. “The guy clings to your side like a guard dog and barely talks to anyone else. And he always looks like he’s on the verge of ripping someone’s throat out.”

Eddie couldn’t help but laugh along with you. “Well, in my defense, he was like that back in his human days too, I didn’t do that to him.”

You peered over the list at the leather-clad vamp as he lit a cigarette. “But you did do the ‘vamparism’ thing to him?”

“Trust me, it wasn’t a premeditated decision.” Eddie may have sounded aloof, but you could tell that the words were strained. “I had only been…turned…for a couple of weeks at that point. I thought I could handle more human interaction than I really could.”

Your eyebrows jumped a fraction of an inch, but you tried to appear unphased. You hadn’t known too many vampires who could bite a human and manage to stop themselves before killing their victims at that phase of their afterlife. A vampire’s thirst could be nearly impossible to resist for the first few years after their transition, never mind the first matter of days. The fact that Eddie was able to bite Gareth without killing him was… impressive, to say the least.

Regardless of how impressive it was, however, Eddie’s facial expression spoke volumes to you about how unimpressed he was by his choices at this particular moment in his history. You decided to air on the side of casual empathy. “Could have been a lot worse.” you said, voice soft but matter of fact. “Plus he has you to protect him.”

Eddie looked at you, eyes guarded and yet bursting at the seams with unshed secrets. You could tell there was so much more he wanted to say, but he settled for a simple, solid “Yeah.”

You didn’t pry. If you needed to know more, you’d find it out in due time, but for now you would settle for ‘yeah’.

The two of you fell into a strange dynamic as your truce was put into effect. For one thing, he made an effort to seek you out in the hallways more; it was troubling, to say the least. You didn’t want people in this town paying attention to you. If they started taking notice of your unusual habits- never getting involved at school, lurking in graveyards and dive bars late into the night, keeping to yourself instead of falling into a friend group like normal teenagers were supposed to- they might start keeping a closer eye on you. A closer eye on you meant a closer eye on the vampires in this town, and the Watcher’s Council would have your head if you became the proverbial Pandora to open the vampire box in Hawkins.

The point was, Eddie was an attention magnet, and his incessant need to interact with you in front of an audience made it difficult to fly under the radar in a town where gossip traveled faster than the average speed limit.

“Slayer!”

His calling you that in the middle of the hallway just after the final bell didn’t help things in the slightest. He was half-jogging through the throng of teens, dodging and weaving between bodies as he made his way to where you stood at your locker with wide eyes trained on the most obnoxious vampire you’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

“Can you not call me that in the middle of a crowded hallway?” you hissed at him once he’d reached your side. In reality, you knew the chances were slim that anyone within earshot knew what a Slayer was, but you weren’t about to test that theory.

“Sorry, killer.” Eddie quipped, shit-eating grin loud and proud on his beaming face. “Just wanted to catch you before you left without me.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Without you? What, are we carpooling now?”

“Yeah, unless you want to get drenched in the tempest going on out there, sweetheart.”

Your mouth was open, poised to argue before Eddie wordlessly scooped up your backpack with effortless strength, shouldered it, and began marching down the crowded hallway. He didn’t even wait for you to close your locker, so you had to make quick work of grabbing your books and locking it shut before bumbling after him.

“Excuse me,” you huffed, power walking in an effort to keep up with his quick pace. “Is there something about me that screams ‘I need to carpool with Eddie Munson’? Because if there is, I will happily correct the issue.”

Eddie hop-skipped through the front doors of the school, threw a chuckling look over his shoulder at you, then took off running through the pouring rain in a straight shot to where his van was parked.

You had no choice but to run in the same direction; he had your backpack.

In a mad dash through the sky’s heavy onslaught, you shielded your head best you could until you made it to Eddie’s passenger door. The rolling percussion of raindrops on pavement was cut starkly short at the shut of your door, and you breathed a sigh of relief before swinging your head around to look at Eddie Smug-Faced Munson, scowling for all you were worth.

“There are quite a few ways I can answer your question, Slayer, all of which could get me staked…” He twisted slightly to toss your backpack into the backseat, where it landed on a discarded t-shirt and a mess of paper and spiraled wire that must have been a notebook at some point. When Eddie turned back to you, your faces were mere inches from each other, both of you trusting the center console with your weight. Eddie’s movements stilled, his eyes flitting ever so quickly down at your barely-parted lips.

You were close enough to hear his soft intake of breath. “Could be worth it, though.”

Your cheeks heated, and you briefly wondered if vampires felt the stolen blood in their cold bodies rush to places in times of tension. Breaking eye contact, you crossed your arms over your chest, brushing your biceps and shoulders with your hands in an effort to warm your rain-drenched skin.

“Just drive, Munson. I have a stake in my pocket with your name on it if you try anything.”

Eddie shook his head, smirking widely. “And here I thought you were just happy to see me.” Shifting the car into drive, he expertly navigated his way out of the parking lot and onto the main road that would take you to the small apartment you currently lived in, courtesy of the Watchers’ Council.

“You’re hunting tonight, right?” Eddie’s voice cut through the rain-spattered silence in the van, jerking your attention from the hypnotic sight of his struggling windshield wipers.

“Yes?” Unintentionally, the answer sounded like a question.

“Take me with you.”

You snorted. “You, a vampire, want to go vampire hunting?”

Eddie shrugged, keeping his umber eyes on the glassy road ahead. “Now that I know there won’t be any innocents on your hit list- yeah, sounds fun.”

You arched an eyebrow. “If I end up staking anyone tonight, you won’t stop me?”

“Good vampire, remember?” he reminded you, placing a hand over his heart before flashing you a reassuring grin. “If somebody’s out there hurting people, I want them off the streets as much as you do.”

And that was how you wound up with an undead hunting partner for your nightly patrol of Hawkins for malicious undead.

Despite being the unlikely duo that you two were, you actually looked like a pair of vampire slayers on a usual patrol- the two of you both wearing combat boots and leather jackets to match. The only tell that this wasn’t your normal routine was the stark silence occupying the space between you. You ended up being the one to finally break it after the first few minutes of patrolling as the two of you strolled through the Hawkins’ cemetery.

“So if we run into some unsavory vampires tonight… how are you gonna kill them?”

“What do you mean, ‘how’?”

“I’m not letting you use my stakes.”

Eddie angled his head toward you, a grin dancing on his lips. “Aw, scared I’ll stake myself on accident, sweetheart?”

“Oh I would consider that a happy accident.” you matched his grin in stride, teasing the tip of your tongue through your teeth.

“Aw, don’t say that! You know you’d miss me, baby.”

Baby?

You sped up your pace a fraction- just enough for him to leave your periphery. “I am not your baby.” You tried to laugh through your response, but it got caught in your throat, tangling with the words and straining them in a way that sounded less lighthearted than you’d intended.

“Well look at that, I found something that makes you nervous.” You could practically feel his smugness from your two steps ahead.

“Nothing makes me nervous.”

“I do.”

You scoffed, speeding up your pace. “You do not-”

In half a second he was in front of you, vampiric speed landing him directly in your way, forcing you to stop short. He was eyeing you down, arms crossed and lids squinted in concentration. “Why’s your heart rate getting faster, then?”

You huffed a breath into the cold air, sending wisps of heat to curl and dissipate as they hit Eddie’s solid form. “Annoyance. Rage. Could be a number of things along those lines.” You sidestepped him, marching forward purposefully. Eddie followed suit beside you.

“Along those lines, you say.” He mused. “Y’know, those lines in particular can get pretty blurry.”

Eddie paused, waiting for you to take the bait. He waited a long time before giving up on that, because under no circumstances did you plan on doing so.

“The lines,” he continued, “between rage and other feelings of… equal passion.”

“You saying you want me to more passionately say you annoy me, Munson?” You quipped, refusing to meet his eyes that were practically begging you to look his way. “I will, don’t tempt me.”

“I’m quite sure you’ll find I can be very good at tempting you, baby.”

You huffed, chin whipping to the side to give him a full view of your serious face. “Stop calling me baby.” You regretted looking his way immediately, because those dark eyes were staring you down with an intensity that caused the air to leave your lungs and your voice to falter.

“Yeah… y’know-” Eddie’s grin was shining in full force now, watching you like you were a puzzle he’d just made a breakthrough in solving. “I don’t think I’m going to do that. This is the first time I’ve seen you flustered.”

“Shut. Up.” You muttered, eyes focused on a newer-looking grave about ten feet from the two of you.

“Hm, sounds like something a flustered person would say-”

“Eddie,” you hissed, already reaching for the stake in your back pocket. “Shut. Up.”

It took him a second, but he followed your gaze and saw what had you shifting gears- the low, wet sound of something sucking, accompanied by the pat pat of excess blood as it dripped to the cold earth. Slightly obscured by the headstone you’d spotted, a vampire had found some unsuspecting soul to snack on.

You held your wooden stake aloft, ready to strike. “Ready to watch the master at work?” you whispered under your breath.

Eddie matched your volume, whispering back an encouraging “Hell yeah, go get ‘em, baby.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed, carefully advancing “Just shut up and watch my back, Munson.”

“Oh I will gladly do that.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m adorable.”

You arrived home around dawn, just as the sun had begun to peek over the horizon and paint the morning in blushing shades of pinks and purples. Your apartment was a little efficiency located above a pawn shop downtown. The entrance was behind the building, which meant that there weren’t any snooping neighbors to watch you entering your home in the wee hours of the night. In a town like Hawkins, this kind of privacy was a valuable commodity.

Eddie had insisted on walking you home since it was so late- or early- which tickled you to no end since he’d just watched you take down a vampire pretty much single-handedly. He climbed the squeaking fire escape two steps behind you, stopping at the final landing as you began to unlock your door.

“You can go now.” You told him curtly.

“You’re not going to invite me in?” You almost laughed; he actually sounded hurt. He was a good actor.

“You act like I haven’t studied vampires every day since I became the Slayer.” You placed your hands on your hips, “As If I’m about to give you an all-access pass to my apartment.”

Eddie laughed, his chuckle a dark and musical thing. “Baby, if I was going to kill you, don’t you think I would have tried already?” His hand was resting on your doorway, blocking the light from the time-yellowed lamp that lit the left side of your doorway and caging you in with his shadow.

“For all I know, this is you trying.” You stood your ground, arms crossed solidly across your chest, refusing to cower even though he was looking at you like he wanted to wrap his teeth around you.

He leaned forward ever so slightly, eyes heavy and hungry. “Do you think that’s what I’m trying to do?” His gaze flicked to your closed door and back to you in half a second. “You think if you walk through that door and invite me inside, I’m going to try to kill you?”

You studied him for a moment. “No.” You hadn’t meant for the word to come out in a whisper, but that’s what happened anyway.

Eddie’s gaze remained unmoved. “So you’ll invite me in?”

“No.”

A chuckle escaped through the crooked smile that invaded his lips. “So fucking stubborn. You know I can smell you, right?”

You raised an eyebrow, confused. Smell what? Did you work up a sweat fighting that vampire? There’s no way you smelled that bad-

“I can smell you, baby.” His lips were moving against your ear, brushing the little silver rings that decorated your cartilage. “You’re right, you shouldn’t let me inside. But I can smell how curious you are about what might happen if you do.”

You were suddenly very aware of how wet you were- you felt a rush of heat as a fresh wave of slick rushed through you, undoubtedly moistening your panties. He could smell that? You were frozen, at a loss for words that could adequately respond to his insinuation.

Before you could react, Eddie’s hand was on your face, gripping your jaw just tight enough to slightly purse your lips. You felt the cold bite of his silver rings on your skin, sending goosebumps trickling down your spine. He looked you in the eyes, his gaze growing deeper and darker, and you began to relax into his grip as you realized that he truly did not intend to hurt you.

“You should invite me in.”

His eyes were so beautiful… how had you never noticed them before? They practically glowed… no, they actually glowed. They were like a neon fucking sign, bright and crimson and shining such a beautiful rose-hued glow that they looked more like rubies than irises.

Your lips moved to echo him. “I should invite you in.” Of course you should. He wasn’t going to hurt you- with every second you spent with his skin on yours and his eyes boring into your own, you became even more sure of that. He just wanted to make you feel good- so, so good…

“And are you going to?” Eddie’s voice was so beautiful- how had you never realized how gorgeous his voice was?

“Yes.”

“Good. That’s a good Slayer, unlock the door, baby.”

And you did. It was the easiest decision you’d ever made. You stepped inside, immediately shedding your coat and hanging it on the coat rack by the door. “Come inside, Eddie,” You smiled at him, letting down your defenses. You were so tired of putting them up around him. “It’s cold out there.”

He matched your smile, looking at you like you’d hung the moon. “Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing.” He crossed the threshold easily, following your lead and shrugging off his leather jacket and hanging it beside your own. He glanced around the little apartment, an appraising look in his gaze. It was just one room, a small studio with a modest kitchen and living space. Your modest bed frame sat nestled in the corner beneath a skylight, along with a small armchair and a closet with the few belongings you’d taken with you to Hawkins.

“Bed looks cozy.” Eddie mused.

“It is.”

He nodded towards it. “Go sit on the edge.”

And of course you did. You sat up straight, keeping your eyes on him and waiting for that beautiful voice to say something else. You so wanted him to keep talking; each word was like a warm shower after hours in the cold, relaxing you into a happy little puddle. Eddie watched as you perched yourself on the edge of the bed, slowly stalking across the room until your knees were almost touching his.

He stared at you, his gorgeous dark eyes glowing deep red. “Open your legs.” You did. Without breaking eye contact, Eddie commanded you again. “Tell me how wet you are for me.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but he raised a hand gesturing stop. “I’m sorry baby, I misspoke.” Placing both hands on either side of your hips, Eddie leaned forward until he was close enough for you to feel his cold breath on your face. “Stick your hand down your panties and feel how wet you are for me. Then tell me out loud.”

You nodded, happy to comply. Your hands were cold, but you didn’t care. You eagerly snaked your hand under the waistband of your pants, shivering as your icy fingers traced a line down your pelvis until they reached the heat beneath your panties. The moment they dipped over the hood of your clit, you were mildly surprised at just how soaked you were.

“Talk to me, baby,” Eddie’s voice washed over you, and you felt a fresh gush of heat pulse through your core.

“I’m soaked, Eddie.” It was the truth; you couldn’t imagine lying to him when he was so curious. Besides, you wanted him to know that he was reducing you to a deluge in his honor.

Slowly, Eddie sunk down to his knees on your floor. His head was level with your open knees, hands dragging down the skin of your outer thighs as he inhaled the air between your legs.

“Take your fingers out of your pussy, I want to taste them.”

You did as he asked, wide eyes rapt with attention as you watched him grab your wrist and shove your drenched fingers in his waiting mouth. His tongue made you want to melt; it lapped along the skin of your fingers and savored the tart, heady flavor of you. You whined when his lips popped off your hand, but eagerly changed your attitude when his fingers began tracing your waistband.

“Tell me you want me to taste that pretty pussy baby, I can smell how bad you want me already, you smell so fucking good.”

You did. You wanted him to taste your pussy very badly… you wanted it more than you could remember ever wanting anything before now. “I want you, Eddie.” you panted. “I want you to taste me, I’m so wet for you.”

Eddie’s eyes shone up at you, like light through a glass of dark red wine. “I know, baby, I know. Don’t worry, I’ll have my tongue on you again in a second.” He slid his hands into your pockets, gently yanking on the material and jolting your hips forward. “Take these off for me.”

Your hands flew to the button of your pants, making quick work of them as well as your panties while Eddie helped you remove your shirt. You wanted to bare yourself to him completely, let him devour you whole, even. When you looked into those beautiful eyes, letting him have you just made sense.

You now sat completely naked at the edge of your bed, Eddie kneeling before you taking in the sight and smell of you. His gaze was hungry, his hands tracing possessive lines into your outer thighs. “You’re going to lie back for me,” he said, voice low and commanding, “and I’m going to taste this pussy that’s been leaking for me since I first called you baby in the graveyard.” Your eyes were wide, desperate- stuck on his like a moth to a flame. He pressed his hands to your knees, opening you up as wide as you could go, and you felt his breath on your wet lips.

“Go ahead, Slayer.”

You laid back, staring up at the morning’s gradient of cerulean and lavender through your skylight as your heart began to race from the anticipation. When Eddie’s tongue licked a broad, wet stripe from your entrance to your clit, a reedy, wanting moan pulled from your chest, singing into the stillness of your apartment.

“That’s it, give me every noise you have, baby. I’ll know if you’re holding any back, and believe me when I say I’ll make you moan one way or another.”

And make you moan he did. Eddie’s tongue was masterful in its movements, licking and flicking in the perfect places as you listened to the symphony of noises that were coming from between your thighs. Between the sound of his wet tongue squelching in the juices that you eagerly supplied and the humming little moans that Eddie made as he feasted on all you had to give him, it was all you could do not to start sobbing from how badly you wanted to cum for him. You knew he’d get you there, but let’s be honest- you were not a patient person.

“More, Eddie- hngh- please, I need… aah!” Your pleas were cut short as you felt a sharp suck at your swollen clit. You moaned, high and pathetic under the careful ministrations of Eddie Munson. His two middle fingers plunged into you, not bothering to give you time to adjust because he knew you were already wet enough to take him. His fingers curled slightly, sharply jerking his hand up and in, over and over in a way that filled you like a water balloon. You were whining, loudly arching your back into your bed as you squeezed your eyes shut, sensing your climax was fast approaching-

“No,” Eddie lunged forward, his right hand never ceasing its assault as his left grabbed you by the neck, wrenching you forward into a crunch position. “Look me in the eyes while you cum, don’t you fucking close those fucking eyes, baby.”

Your mouth hung open, eyebrows drawn together desperate and needy as you felt yourself getting impossibly wet and impossibly tight. His hand kept going, ruthlessly pounding into you as you screamed his name. Curses tumbled from his lips as he watched you soak his hand, and all the while his other hand stayed curled possessively around your neck. Wetness sprayed from you, and his eyes were downright feral as you squirted all over his face. You watched his smile grow, stretching across his face in triumph and baring his fangs in all their unholy glory before turning his head to the side and opening even wider.

Then he sunk his teeth into your femoral artery, and sucked.

You moaned- loudly- and then you woke up.

Being a vampire slayer who’s had a sex dream about a vampire was pretty embarrassing.

Being a vampire slayer who’s had a sex dream about Eddie Munson was… inconvenient.

When you’d first woken up from… the dream… you’d spent your first waking moments frantically trying to figure out how much- if any- of it had even happened. Had Eddie even walked you to your door, or had you parted ways at the cemetery? Had he actually called you baby? Did he admit he could smell how much it affected you when he’d called you that? Most importantly, had you actually invited him into your apartment?

It took a few minutes, but eventually you sorted out reality from whatever your traitorous brain had concocted. You and Eddie had hunted last night. He did indeed call you baby at one point and teased you about how defensive you got about it. You’d slayed a vampire while Eddie assessed the victim, and afterward the two of you had taken her to Annie at the hospital and updated her on the situation. With Hawkins’ vampire population growing by the day, this wasn’t the first time she’d dealt with a newborn; she knew what to do.

After that, you’d gone your separate ways. As far as you knew, Eddie still didn’t know where you lived- though, you knew if he wanted to find out then it wouldn’t be difficult for him to follow you home undetected. The good news was that he still hadn’t been invited into your home, so you were probably safe as long as you were inside your apartment. Of course, the rules for Hawkins Vamps were still mostly unknown to you, so there was a possibility that he might be immune to the invitations-only rule that bound most types of vampires- but you weren’t about to take him home and test that theory.

Then there was the compulsion- the ability to control the minds of humans and turn them into subservient prey at the mercy of their vampiric predator. You had heard of some vampires having this ability, but had never actually come across it in your time as the Slayer. You hoped that this dream had just been the product of loneliness and sexual frustration taking over a sleep-deprived mind, but how could you be sure? Maybe everything in your dream had actually happened, and Eddie had simply compelled you to think it was all a dream. Maybe he had some sort of psychic powers specific to Hawkins Vampires, and he had planted the dream in your brain just to fuck with you.

You didn’t know what was real. On top of that, Eddie kept trying to get your attention at school the next day and it was getting more and more difficult to ignore him without being obvious about it. You successfully avoided him for the duration of the school day, but he finally caught up to you as you were walking home. Driving his van at a steady crawl, he rolled down his window next to where you walked on the grassy shoulder.

“You wanna tell me why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”

You sighed, too chicken to meet his eyes. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Yes you have.”

You sped up your pace, which was stupid because Eddie was literally driving a motor vehicle.

“No, I haven’t.”

You were still refusing to look at him, but you could hear the eye roll in his sigh. “Quit being difficult, Slayer,” he said, still keeping equal speed with your barely increased pace. “Get in the van.”

“No.”

“Uugghhh.” Eddie groaned. “Please? I don’t know what I did wrong but I’ll make it up to you.”

You shook your head but still faced forward as you trudged along on the side of the road. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” You didn’t think he had, anyway. “I’m just… I’m in a weird funk today, don’t read too much into it.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Okay, then get in the van.”

You felt your cheeks heat at the thought of being so close to him… just the idea was enough to get you wet. You felt the familiar gush of arousal as you walked even faster. “No.”

An echo from last night’s dream reverberated in your skull. So fucking stubborn. You know I can smell you, right?

You picked up your pace.

Eddie sighed, jerking the gear shift into park. In a moment, he was inches in front of you, his hand planted firmly on your shoulder.

“Stop,” he said, his tone much more all-business than before. You did what he said, begrudgingly, but you were glad you didn’t feel any real need to be obedient. No compulsion, then… you thought, at least not right now.

You slowly looked up at him, hoping he couldn’t smell the effect that his sudden touch had on you. “Eddie, it’s fine. Seriously.” you tried to smile at him reassuringly, but you could feel on your face that it came out looking more like a cringe.

Eddie was silent, looking you over with an unreadable expression. Finally, he spoke, “Please get in the van. I’ll take you out for food, whatever you want, my treat. If you aren’t going to tell me what I did to make you so mad at me, at least let me make it up to you somehow.”

You thought it over for a moment, eventually conceding and nodding your head. Eddie exhaled a sigh of relief before turning on his heel to open the door for you. When you were both seated in the car, Eddie looked over to you cautiously, questioningly.

“Milkshakes?”

You nodded, eyes still facing forward. “Milkshakes.”

Benny’s had everything.

They had the best burgers in town. They had the best fries, the best chicken fried steak, the best pancakes in the morning. But the milkshakes? They were the best you’d ever had- which was saying something, since you’d lived in twelve different small towns just like this one since your Slayer powers awakened four years ago.

You sipped your vanilla milkshake through a red-striped straw and let the sweet, dependable flavor ground you. It was like releasing a breath you’d been holding since you’d woken up that morning. Eddie’s powers of observation didn’t need to be above average for him to notice the relief washing over you.

He sipped his chocolate shake, raising an eyebrow as your shoulders relaxed into your first suck of the straw. “You don’t have to talk about it, sweetheart,” he murmured against the plastic held between his lips, “but if there’s something on your mind, you can talk to me.”

Yeah, but you are the thing on my mind, you thought, and therein lies the problem.

“I appreciate the concern, Munson, but I’m fine.” You shrugged. “Like I said, it’s just a weird funk. Normal. It happens.”

Eddie didn’t seem convinced, sipping from his straw as he studied you intently- it was making you uncomfortable.

“Stop staring at me.”

“Stop lying and saying you’re fine, I can tell something’s up.” Eddie reached up with one hand and tapped on one of his dormant fangs with a fingernail. “Vampire senses, remember?”

Your heart rate picked up at the thought of what his vampire senses might be sensing, and you could instantly tell that Eddie had heard it from the subtle tick of his eyebrow.

“Speaking of vampire senses,” you started, eagerly trying to turn the conversation away from your current state, “I have some questions about your, um… powers. Specifically, about Hawkins vamps in general.”

Eddie seemed surprised by the new line of questioning, but nodded cooperatively. Leaning back in his squeaky booth seat, he let go of his glass to stick his hands nonchalantly in his pockets. “What do you want to know, Slayer? I’m an open book.”

Pulling your legs up to rest on the seat of the booth, you made yourself comfortable, leaning against your backpack that sat between you and the wall. “Are you able to enter someone else’s place of residence without an invitation?”

“Yes.”

Your eyebrows jumped. “Really?”

Eddie was already nodding. “I already knew my fair share of vampire lore before my stint in the Upside Down… I tested the more popular vampire theories pretty quick after I figured out what I was.”

You smiled, your curiosity eclipsing the nagging worry in your chest regarding his answer to your first question. “Which theories?”

Eddie chuckled at himself, making a show of counting them out on his fingers. “Well, the first was running really fast- really, really fast, I mean you’ve seen me-” Your scoff and eye roll earned you a cheeky wink from the vampire. “-tested out how good my hunting skills were in the forest by hunting down some squirrels, and let me tell you, super speed and super hearing can only get you so far, because those motherfuckers are always on alert. Learned how quiet I can be now, which is weird because staying still and silent has never been my strong suit.”

“That doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.” you snorted. “And you told me the sunlight thing doesn’t bother you because of your witch friend- what was her name, again?”

“Nice try, but I’m still not telling you.”

You smiled, throwing your hands up in mock surrender. “Worth a shot, I’ll find out eventually anyway.” Taking a sip of your milkshake, you kept your voice even as you asked your next question, which was arguably the most important to you at the moment. “So, uh, are there any other powers that you’ve noticed? Powers that don’t fit into the ‘popular vampire theories’ umbrella?”

He raised an eyebrow, “Such as?”

Ugh. “Well,” you began, focusing on a spot on the table where the vinyl coating had begun to peel off and using your fingernail to help it along. “In some regions, there are vampires who can read minds or compel humans to do whatever they say. Some can even bite humans without turning them.”

“Damn,” Eddie whistled, “lucky bastards.”

“So you’re saying you can’t do those things?” you prompted, to which Eddie shook his head and sighed.

“Nope. First and last time I bit someone, I turned my best friend into a monster. Didn’t feel like testing that theory anymore after that. Can’t read or control minds either, but honestly I’m fine with that. That kind of power doesn’t tend to end well for people.”

You nodded, sipping the final bit of milkshake down. “Wise words.”

Eddie did the same, fishing out his wallet and slapping a ten dollar bill on the table before standing. “They’re the words of someone who’s flown close enough to the sun to know himself pretty well by now.” He stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded towards the door. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you stood and followed him, catching the door as he opened it for you. “Thanks for the milkshake.”

“Don’t worry about it, consider it an apology.”

“I told you, you didn’t do anything! I’m just in a funk-” but if Eddie could hear you, he didn’t show it as he jumped into his van and closed the door.

The drive to your apartment wasn’t long, only about five minutes. Approaching your front door with Eddie in tow gave you the strangest sense of deja vu even though the only time this had happened before was in your dream. You stood with him in the doorway, the warm light of your single-bulb lamp casting harsh shadows across his face as he watched you with eyes tinged with something imperceptible.

“Gonna invite me in?” Eddie asked, his voice husky and eerily quiet in the cold air.

You smirked, feeling slightly apprehensive knowing that he didn’t need an invitation, but was asking for one anyway. “Why, you trying to snoop through my things, Munson?”

Eddie snorted, “We both know that I could if I wanted to, sweetheart, and I wouldn’t need your permission.” He shrugged, leaning a shoulder against the chipping paint on your doorframe. “I’m just trying to be a gentleman.”

“Since when has that been your priority?” you bit back, but there was no venom in it. You were already jiggling your key into the brass lock and turning the knob. You weren’t sure why Eddie wanted to come in, but he was right- if he had malicious intent, he could barge into your home whether you wanted it or not. You made a mental note to request some demon-repellent poultices from a witch friend of yours to remedy that…

The door creaked open, and you tried to shake off that wild feeling of deja vu that kept washing over you with every similarity to your dream that kept occurring. Eddie’s boots thumped against the floorboards, heavy souls claiming the aging wood with every step they took. He surveyed your apartment, assessing what he saw with nods of his head and crossing of arms.

“Well I can tell you don’t plan on staying long.” he mused.

You raised an eyebrow, closing the door and locking it behind you. “What makes you say that?”

“The walls are empty. Nothing in here looks like you picked it out. I didn’t know better, I’d think I was in a hotel room. ”

You raised your eyebrows, nodding. “Perceptive. You’re not wrong, you know. I don’t usually stay in one place very long.”

“What’s the longest your wardens have let you stay in one place?” Eddie had hopped up on your tiny kitchen counter, his arms straining against the fabric of his leather jacket as he braced his hands on the ledge. You hoped he hadn’t noticed the way your eyes lingered on the way your dim lighting glinted off his bicep.

“Watchers. Not wardens.” you corrected, shedding your own leather and dropping the coffee-colored jacket over the edge of your bed. “And it’s never been more than a year. If you want to get technical, I think I was in Las Vegas for around 11 months.”

He quirked a curious smile. “Vegas, huh? Lot of vampires there?”

You shrugged. “Tons of tourists to munch on and nothing but nightlife. Believe me when I say that city is run by vampires.”

Eddie chuckled, “Guess that makes sense.” He looked down, as if he were debating whether or not to say whatever he was thinking at the moment. Then- “Any idea if… well, have they told you if you’ll be here long?”

You smiled; it was a small, tentative thing, but you allowed it to grace your lips. “I’ll probably just stay until the council is happy with the knowledge I’ve accumulated about Hawkins vamps. Once they feel I’m needed more elsewhere, I’ll be packed up and moved within days.” You averted your eyes from his, suddenly finding it difficult to voice the reality that any day, you might have to leave Hawkins. Leave the friendship you’d started to get the slightest bit attached to.

You heard Eddie scoff- it wasn’t bitter or laced with venom, but it was hollow. An empty, breathy laugh that didn’t do much to cover the vulnerability he had shown by simply bringing up the subject of how long you’d be staying. “Well, you know what they say- hate to see you go, love to watch you leave.”

It was an attempt at glossing over the mournful mood that’d begun lingering in the air. You looked up at him, brows pulling together in a hopeful, sweeping arch. “You really hate to see me go?”

The smile he’d plastered on was devious and smart-mouthed, but it softened at your question. “Yeah…” he said, his voice lower and rounded as he stroked his fingers along his jawline. “...I think I hate it.” His head stayed down while his slitted eyes looked up at you beneath bushy brown brows. “I was just getting you to like me.”

Now it was your turn to scoff. “Who said I liked you?”

“Your heart rate.”

Well, if it wasn’t true before, it was now. You felt all the blood in your body suddenly rushing through your veins with purpose. The room was feeling surprisingly hot, and you absently pondered whether you had left the heater on when you had left that morning.

Your voice matched his quiet timbre, “And what’s my heart rate saying?”

He slowly stepped down from his perch on the countertop, stalking toward you with care, as if he were approaching a wild animal.

Ironic.

“Well,” he started, “something in your brain obviously must have told your heart that you might have to run soon, because your blood’s been racing since I walked through that door.” He took a step closer, and now all you had to do was look up and your faces would be parallel, his eyes boring into yours. “Your body still knows I’m a predator, that’s good.”

He was right. Your blood was racing under his gaze, and he could undoubtedly feel the heat that was radiating off of you- but that didn’t mean you were ready to openly let that show. “What about you? Big and scary ‘Kas the Bloody Handed’?” you asked. “How does your body react around a vampire slayer?”

Now you looked up. He was glaring down at you, pensive and predatory as a cheshire grin slowly crept across his features. “That depends on how much blood I’ve got in me, sweetheart.” You were leaning against the edge of your tiny excuse for a kitchen island, but now that his hands were planted on both sides of your torso and braced along the tiled edge of the countertop, you felt caged in with nowhere to go and nothing to look at except his eyes as they glowered down at you. “If it’s been a while since I've fed… well, to be honest I get a little hungry.”

Breathe.

“And if you’ve had your fill?”

He chuckled. “Oh, baby, if a vampire ever tells you they’ve had their fill, they’re lying. There is always room for more.” You felt a chill, and the blood in your veins was screaming at you now to grab a fucking stake!! However, you couldn’t seem to tear yourself from this conversation. The way he made you feel- hot, ironically enough- was gluing you to the spot.

“But if I’ve got some blood in my system,” he continued, “I have to confess, Slayer, just seeing the way you look at me is enough to make all of that blood rush to all sorts of places.”

You were both silent, but the air was pregnant with the question he knew you wanted to ask. A few short breaths were all it took to make you give in. “And… how do I look at you?”

His thumbs ventured to brush over your hips through the material of your jeans, and you jumped at how much the contact affected you. You took in a sharp breath in surprise, and the strained sigh that rumbled through his chest in response nearly made you shudder.

“Like… a fox that knows it’s being hunted. Wants to be hunted…knows it could outsmart the hunter, but wants the chance to run simply for the thrill of it.”

Fucking. Breathe.

“Is this your way of saying you’re hunting me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, like the tension between the two of you was so fragile that it could be shattered if you spoke loud enough.

Eddie’s lips were inches from yours, and you could feel his cold breath on your cheeks. “This is my way of saying that I don’t need to.” He nodded sharply in your direction, “Fox.” He squeezed your hips, tugging you gently closer to him, “Trap.”

You squirmed under his gaze but refused to look away from his smoldering eyes. “Bold of you to assume I’m the fox in that scenario.”

“Yeah, yeah…” his husky whisper rasped into your ear when the soft brush of his fingers along your hips became a firm grasp as he effortlessly lifted you up to sit on the counter behind you. He did it so swiftly, so easily… it wasn’t hard to forget about his vampire strength when he barely showed it. He gazed into your wide eyes with a grin that was playful but hungry. “Big bad Slayer is a hunter, not hunted. We’re all aware, sweetheart.”

His hands splayed atop your thighs, and you couldn’t remember a time before now that you had felt anything as acutely- or with as much anticipation- as you were feeling every inch of him touching you right now. Your inner calves touching the outer sides of his thighs. The knobby contact of his hip bones where they wedged between your knees. The way his fingertips pressed into the meat of your thighs ever so slightly, like he feared how hard he could squeeze before he hurt you.

You watched his hands, breathless as you studied the light that glinted off his silver rings. There were splotches of faded black shining on a few of his fingernails. It wasn’t nail polish; you’d seen how he colored on his nails with black Sharpie when he got bored in class. Those black nails shone reddish-purple when the light hit them just so, and you shivered as they traveled further up your thighs until he reached the part of your hips that had the most flesh for him to squeeze. A low growl danced in his throat when he heard the noise that escaped you at the sensation his hands were supplying.

He squeezed tighter, tentatively testing how much of his strength you could handle. Luckily for him, slayers are not delicate creatures.

Wordlessly, you lifted your hands to his shoulders, letting your fingers twist into his dark curls. They were beautifully brown, frozen in the perfect shade of chocolate until the end of time. Your nails gently met his scalp, raking through the roots until both of your hands were nested deep in his hair.

You made two fists and pulled.

It wasn’t a sharp tug, wasn’t meant to yank him away from you; it was a slow pull, meant to tease and tell him that you weren’t afraid of a little pain, given or received. He was testing the waters, and you were giving him the all-clear.

His eyes screwed shut when you pulled his hair, and it wasn’t from any sort of pain but simply from the fact that you were doing it in the first place. Eddie took a deep, shuddering breath as he opened his eyes once again to glare up at you with enough impassioned heat to give his bloodless body a temperature. He clenched his jaw until it ticked, then mumbled “alrighty then” so quickly and quietly that you didn’t even know if you were meant to hear it.

And then he was slamming you against the wall.

Your thighs straddled his waist, ass seated in Eddie’s stone-strong hands as you felt your back hit the drywall. His eyes were pitch black, hungry for so many things but settling for your lips as he captured them in his own. You kissed him back fervently, desperate now that you knew his touch and the sensations that came with it.

“God you smell so fucking good,” Eddie growled, pressing into you at the waist and pinning you to the wall where he held you tightly. His lips were insatiable, kissing you like your lips were dipped in sugar and he was a starving man. He panted against your mouth, breathless. “Always smell so fucking good… might be obsessed, I want…want…”

“Want what, Eddie?” you panted with him, eyes fluttering open, wanting to see the way he looked at you when he said things like I might be obsessed as he kissed you… who wouldn’t want to see that? You weren’t disappointed with the sight.

Framed by the backlit baby hairs that formed an evening halo around his head, you might have thought at first glance that Eddie looked angelic. Oh, how wrong that would be. His eyes held far too much gluttony for that.

He leaned in to scent the crook of your neck, causing you to shiver as the tip of his nose traced the base of your skull before whispering into your ear-

“Want to taste you- in every way-” You shivered. “-I want to feel you on my tongue, running down my throat, soaking my hands, falling apart…” Eddie’s lips traveled down your neck, mouthing over the veins that pumped your life force at top speed under sweet, pliant skin. “I want to break you just to know what you look like broken by me.”

The two of you were waltzing on the line of your collective self-control, and you knew all it took would be one little bite- one tiny prick of his fangs- and his venom would pour into your bloodstream. Then it would be goodbye, humanity.

Mustering up the slightest amount of dignity (with surprising difficulty), you took one hand out of his hair and braced it on his shoulder while the other stayed fisted in his curls. With a sharp tug, you used your Slayer strength to remind him he was evenly matched here, yanking him from your neck and bringing his bloodlust-glazed eyes parallel to yours.

“Fucking try it then.” you hissed, “See if you can break me.”

Eddie’s familiar roguish grin triumphantly returned then, and you barely registered his nasal scoff and a rush of wind before you were suddenly being flung onto your bed across the apartment. Eddie climbed on top of you, caging you in with solid arms and a scarlet guitar pick that dangled from his neck to dance on the skin of your collarbone.

He stared down at you expectantly, all-business. “Take your shirt off.”

“You take yours off.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Are you really in a position to be giving the orders, Slayer?”

In a split second, you grabbed his wrists and hooked a leg over his hip, rolling over in the blink of an eye. Now, you were seated firmly on his hips, back arched to splay over his torso and pin his wrists to the mattress. Eddie’s eyes widened, caught off guard by the sudden display of strength and dexterity that he had apparently forgotten you had.

You grinned, cocky. “I am now.”

Eddie glared, thrusting upward in hopes that he might throw you off balance, but to no avail. Rotating his hands in your grip, Eddie dexterously took hold of your wrists and gently pressed his nails into your skin. You winced; his nails were sharper than you’d thought they would be. Almost like…

Claws. Eddie’s nails had grown into catlike points, and now they were applying a little too much pressure. Any more than this and he would surely draw-

“-Blood.”

You whispered to yourself as you watched the bright bead pooling where Eddie’s thumb had pressed hard enough to puncture skin. Before you had time to react, Eddie was pulling your bleeding wrist to his face, inspecting his handiwork up close. He caught a whiff of your scent, inhaling deeply before exhaling so heavily that it rumbled low in his chest. Bringing your wrist to hover above his mouth, you felt your survival instincts kicking in as Eddie’s grip on your arm tightened, squeezing more of your blood to pool into the drop that now hung precariously from the cut in your skin.

Eddie’s finger on the top of your wrist raised, then firmly tapped down hard enough to shake the drop free and send it falling into his waiting mouth below.

You watched, transfixed as Eddie moaned at the taste of you on his tongue. He licked his lips, spreading your blood across them and letting your essence settle into the cracks in his skin. You wondered how long his lips would taste like you after tonight. Would it only take moments for the flavor of you to leave his skin? Or would he still taste you in the morning?

Eddie’s eyes rolled back in his head, his composure slipping under the influence of your blood in his mouth. He pulled your wrist to his mouth and licked greedily at the tiny puncture wound, gently sucking but still staying careful enough to keep his fangs far away from the opening. You were trusting him to be responsible here, as stupid as that was, but so far he seemed to be completely aware of where the line was, and he was careful not to cross it. Test it, maybe… but he wouldn’t cross it. At least you were hoping he wouldn’t.

His gaze settled on yours, and you found yourself at a loss for words. He smiled proudly, slowly sitting up until his face was even with yours. You’d long since let go of your grip on his other hand, and now that your bones were suddenly jelly, it was easy for Eddie to lift both hands to your neck and slot both of them so that his thumbs and pointers rested on either side of your ears. He pulled your lips to his, kissing you passionately and sharing the taste of your own blood from where it still lingered in his mouth.

“Tastes like fuckin’ honey.” He murmured against your lips, tongue snaking out to lick into you, and you couldn’t tell if he was referring to the taste of your lips or the taste of your blood. You recognized it in his kiss- the metallic flavor rolling over your taste buds and awakening something primal in you. Your hips bucked into his, and you felt the solid length that ached for you through his jeans.

Eddie chuckled darkly, rolling his hips into yours in response. “Careful, baby.” You felt his lips lowering, placing gentle wet kisses along your throat. Your heart raced to a bounding pulse as it dawned on you that were he to bite you here, he could kill you quite quickly. “Mmmmmm,” you shivered as his voice reverberated through your neck. “I can feel your blood rushing faster. That just for me?”

You forced yourself to breathe as you confirmed his suspicions with a small nod. Eddie sighed, hot breath pluming from his nostrils and across your skin. “Just for me… all for me…” His tongue emerged once again and licked a fat, wet stripe along the center of your neck, and you couldn’t stop the desperate moan he pulled from you at the sensation. His hand slid down for his thumb to make slippery caresses over the trail of spit he’d left behind.

“I’ve never tasted blood this good, sweetheart. It’s… I don’t know how to describe it, it’s like the way you smell, but better.” His thumb pressed ever so gently into your throat, and you felt the tip of his sharpened nail rake a promise against your skin. Eddie kept it there, pausing for a moment, and you realized with a pang of emotion that he was trying to stop himself from asking for more.

You allowed the slightest bit of tenderness to break through to your exterior, smiling gently at him as you leaned into his touch. “It’s okay,” you whispered, “I can trust you not to take too much, right?”

The lights were dim, but you could see enough of Eddie’s face to make out the glowing smile your trust had elicited. His hands curved gently along the back of your neck, cradling the base of your skull as he pulled your forehead to rest against his own. “You’re incredible, you know that?”

So much warmth flooded your chest at Eddie’s praise that it almost scared you. You knew this wasn’t compulsion- you felt complete control of your body and mind, and felt aware of your ability to tell him no. In fact, you knew in your heart that if you told him that you wanted to stop everything now, he would obey without a second thought, bid you goodnight, and walk right out that door.

But you definitely did not want that to happen.

That much was made clear by the pornographic moan that tumbled from your lips as Eddie’s claw drew a single, shallow gash down the center of your neck. His hand slotted under your jaw, applying enough pressure to hold off the blood flow above your neck for the fewest of seconds. Blood pooled in the cut, and Eddie admired his handiwork with hungry fascination.

“Gorgeous…” he muttered, leaning closer. Your heart was racing, undoubtedly causing the blood to rush even faster to your neck, and when you heard Eddie fucking inhale the scent of your blood like it was a perfectly aged Bordeaux? It started beating out a marathon.

The moment your scent hit his nostrils, you shivered as a guttural, primal rumbling rolled from Eddie’s chest. The growl grew into a moaning sigh as you felt his warmed wet lips envelop the base of the cut on your neck, and lick into the life that pooled there.

He sucked, pulling more into his mouth and you whimpered slightly from the sensation. As if to comfort you, his hands slid a little further down so that they cupped the vertebrae at the back of your neck, and it was strange how you could almost feel his touch getting warmer the more blood he took from you. He pulled your neck closer, hungry for all you had to give him.

For a moment you started to worry, fearing that you may have overestimated Eddie’s control over his bloodlust, but your worries were put to rest when he detached himself from his latch and licked up the minimal mess that he had made.

“Let’s get this off of you, Slayer.”

Eddie’s hands snuck underneath the hem of your shirt, causing you to shiver at the sensation of cold fingers on heated flesh. Before long, You were both stripped down to nothing and panting with need, a tangle of hands and lips and pulses as you melted into each other in the moonlight. He pushed you gently onto your back, climbing over you slowly and with purpose. You felt the hard length of his naked cock bounce against your thigh as he did, and the anticipation you began to feel between your legs was hot and wet, dripping from your lips as if it were salivating for him. You bucked up involuntarily, eliciting an amused chuckle from the vampire on top of you.

“Easy, baby,” Eddie cooed, “starting to think you only invited me in for one thing.”

“Oh blow it out your ass.” you rolled your eyes at him, “Don’t pretend you weren’t hoping for that one thing exactly.”

Eddie smiled, a twinkle in his eye launching your heartbeat into overdrive as he planted a quick peck to the cut on your neck and began to lower himself further south. “I may have had a hunch, yeah.” You watched with rapt attention as his face drew closer and closer to where you wanted him most, the echo of your dream still potent in your memory. What similar talents might the Eddie from your imagination have shared with the Eddie that currently studied your glistening pussy as if it were a delicacy to devour?

In your heart of hearts, you knew that every move you’d made tonight since Eddie walked through that door was absolutely insane. Masochistic, even. But your own idiocy was no match for the ecstasy that hit you when Eddie’s dextrous tongue dove into your folds, twisting and lapping up the essence that he craved in ways that sent waves of pleasure coursing through your arching form.

You moaned, writhing under his touch as his tongue glided over the dripping lips of your core, savoring the flavors of your arousal and the way they paired with the taste of your blood that still lingered in his senses.

“Taste so fucking good, sweetheart, goddamn.” Eddie’s voice was muffled, wet and hot in the way he spoke it into you and moved his lips along your pussy to speak the words. The sensation coupled with the commentary all but broke you, and you mewled a bewildered thank you as he continued his ministrations.

A sharp sting jolted you, ripping your eyelids open- you didn’t even remember closing your eyes- and it took a second to realize that Eddie had used his sharpened nails to create another gash at your inner thigh. It stung, but only slightly, so you assumed the cut must not be too deep.

“Sorry, sweetheart, did that hurt?” Eddie’s voice was soft and sympathetic as his fingers toyed with the small wound, gently pinching and pressing to undoubtedly coax more blood for him to enjoy.

“Little bit,” you whispered, and the voice that came out of your mouth was so high-pitched and airy that you hardly recognized it. “-but it’s not bad. It’s not too deep, right?”

“Nah, barely even a scratch.” Eddie assured you. “Besides, I’ll close it in a second anyway.”

Your head popped off the pillow. “You can do that?”

“Check your neck, sweetheart.”

You brought a hand to the place where Eddie’s cut had been, but were amazed to find that the cut was completely gone. You felt nothing but smooth, unscathed skin in its wake. Bemused, you checked the cut at your wrist and found it had healed as well.

“How did you do that?”

Eddie shrugged, the pads of his fingers beginning to draw idle shapes over your clit, mixing your blood with the wetness of your cunt. “Apparently, all I have to do is lick a scratch and it heals itself within minutes.” You jolted when you felt his lips close around your clit and suck, whining at the suction as he drew the mixture of your flavors into his mouth and hummed in satisfaction.

“Now if you don’t mind,” he murmured, “I was in the middle of something down here.”

You barely had time to nod before he was diving back between your legs, lapping up your essence with an urgency that lay somewhere between passionate purpose and reckless abandon. He alternated, going back and forth between the bloodied gash on your thigh and the shimmering lips of your dripping cunt.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, arching into the mattress as he moaned into you at the intensity of your taste. “More, please… I need… inside-”

In a blur of movement, Eddie’s face was level with yours, and you were staring directly into his lust-blown eyes as his cock nudged its head between your folds. Eddie shuddered at the feeling, closing his eyes as ecstasy overtook him and he slowly sheathed himself completely into you.

“Hoooooly shit, sweetheart-” Eddie gritted out through clenched teeth. His arm reached behind your shoulders, pulling you flush against him and bringing his mouth to hover mere inches from your ear. “Fucking made for me, so fucking tight.”

When Eddie began to move, your hips bucked to meet him instinctively. In your current position, Eddie had you caged in and wrapped in his arms, held in place as he thrusted into you and grunted sweet, filthy nothings into your ear.

“Feel so good squeezing my cock, baby.”

“Wrap your legs around me, don’t let me leave.”

“God, you smell so fucking good, can still taste you on my lips.”

“Such a good little vampire slayer. Take it all, sweet thing.”

You were getting closer with every word; each whispered praise in your ear made you tighten more and more, but you weren’t quite there yet. As if he could read your mind, Eddie’s hand snaked down between your naked bodies until his middle finger came to rest on your throbbing clit. Careful to keep his claws from scratching the sensitive area, the soft pad of his finger slipped small circles over the wanting bud.

You mewled, eyes rolling back at the combined sensations. The stimulation was overtaking every sense, numbing you to everything but the climb of your orgasm that awaited you on the other side of the peak you were climbing.

“You know what’s crazy, Slayer?”

Eddie’s voice was husky in your ear, and you’d barely registered what he’d said before he continued.

“I didn’t even need the power to control your mind. Didn’t need to make you want me like this, you did that all yourself.”

You struggled to comprehend what he was getting at, but a particularly forceful thrust caused a sharp moan to leap from your lips. Eddie laughed, and it was somehow both musical and malicious all at once.

“Dreams are funny things… I showed up just to see what would happen, thinking ‘hey, there’s no way in hell she’d have me, right? But maybe in my dreams’...” Eddie chuckled ruefully, shifting slightly to angle his cock further into you and moaning at the way you gripped him tighter when your leg was tilted just so.

Your eyebrows knit together, confused. What did he mean he showed up? As in, showed up in your dream? Your mind was reeling, spinning in the midst of the jumbled logic of his words and the mounting pleasure his cock was driving into you.

“But it wasn’t even in my dreams that you wanted me, it was yours… in your dream you gave in to me so easily, practically begged me to tell you what to do…”

What? What was he… was Eddie saying what you thought he was saying? You squirmed, trying to lift him so you could look him in the eyes, but he held you in place- immobile and at his mercy. Your eyes widened as you stared up at the skylight in your ceiling. The moon was full tonight, and it stared down at you unwaveringly as Eddie continued to thrust into you and hit that spongy spot within your cunt over and over and over.

“The compulsion was a great touch, I hadn’t even thought of that until your delicious little brain took a turn for the kinky.” You could hear the smile on his panted words. “One dream told me all I needed to know… you wanted me just as bad, Slayer. Wanted- needed- permission to just let go and admit you wanted the bloodsucker’s cock, didn’t you?”

“Y-you….ah! Oh, fuck!”

You tried to respond, tried to tell him you needed a second to process what he was telling you, but before you could get more than a word out his finger began to work your clit at a pace so rapid, only a demon like him was capable. If you didn’t know better, you would think he’d pulled out a vibrator. That was how fast he was able to rip your orgasm from its precipice and make you spasm out of control around his cock.

“Shit!” You clenched at the sinful sound of Eddie’s voice in your ear as he unraveled inside of you. “Holy- I’m cumming, baby, fuck-” He continued to thrust into you as he rode out his orgasm, murmuring into your neck, “...mine. Fucking mine…”

Your eyes stared unblinking at the moon as you clenched around Eddie’s throbbing dick, mind beginning to flood with post-sex clarity as soon as your orgasm began to calm. Your chest felt like it was clawing at your heart, trying desperately to rip out the offending organ for overtaking the control that your brain was supposed to have had this entire time. Your instincts had tried- god, they’d fucking tried- to tell you not to trust the demon inside you, and yet here you were. Pinned to your own bed with his seed dripping from the most intimate parts of you, and you’d fucking invited him in.

How much of your attraction to him had been you, and how much had been him? You’d asked him so many questions this very night about his powers, what he was capable of- and he’d glossed over a very important piece of information by omitting the fact that he could make appearances in your fucking dreams.

Before you could even voice even one of the questions that swirled around in your head, Eddie’s eyes were hovering over yours, the moonlight dancing in a ghostly halo along his silhouette.

“Listen to me, Slayer.”

His eyes were pitch black, and you found yourself missing the brilliant ruby red they’d shone in your dream. Maybe that’s all tonight was? Just a horrible dream, and the one person you’d considered a friend in this godforsaken town was still someone you could trust.

“I’m going to get you cleaned up, you’re going to get under these covers, and then you’re going to go to sleep.” You heard him take a breath; felt his shaking exhale on your face. “When you wake up in the morning, you’ll forget everything that happened since I walked through that door.”

You blinked, listening intently. Obediently.

“I walked you home, said goodnight at the door, and left. Then you went inside, locked your door, and went to bed. Repeat it back to me.”

“You walked me home, said goodnight at the door, and left.” Your lips moved seamlessly of their own accord, parroting his own story back to him as you stared into those bottomless black eyes. “Then I went inside, locked the door, and went to bed.”

Eddie stared at you a moment, and there was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite read. It suddenly dawned on you that his eyes weren’t normally black or red. They were brown. You missed how pretty those brown eyes were. They were sweet; honest. Trustworthy eyes.

Finally moving after a few seconds of watching you intently, searching your face for something he evidently couldn’t find, he leaned forward and tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Good.” he whispered, low and tired. “That’s good, sweetheart.”

The night played out exactly as Eddie said it would. He cleaned you up, taking the time to make sure he’d kissed every nick he’d made in your skin until there wasn’t a wound in sight. He watched silently as you cleaned your face, donned a soft shirt so large it reached mid-thigh, and slid under your covers. Eddie kissed you softly before wordlessly locking your doorknob from the inside and exited your apartment. You heard him double check the lock and leave once he was satisfied with your safety.

Then you fell asleep.

Eddie had only dreamwalked a few times before he’d realized that his newfound vampirism gave him the power to manipulate the dreams that he’d recently gained the ability to stumble into.

It had started when he’d heard Wayne sleeping restlessly in the living room of their trailer, tossing and turning on the couch with his forehead pinched with worry. Eddie had wanted so badly to ease his pain, and before he knew it he was watching his uncle’s nightmare playing out around him like he’d stepped onto the set of a film. He’d seen his own gravestone, seen Wayne tearing at the dirt until his fingers bled, and wanted nothing more than to alleviate his uncle’s pain- that yearning on his part had evidently been enough to cause the scene to shift in his favor. The grave had sunken into the ground, the sky changed from stormy gray to sunny blue, and the bed of dirt had become a gingham blanket, upon which sat a significantly happier Wayne and a sticky-fingered Eddie at age four holding a PB&J that was oozing out the sides.

It was at this moment that Eddie had started thinking that maybe these powers he’d gained might not be all bad.

He hadn’t realized he had the ability to manipulate memories until the first time Gareth had lost control and killed that girl from U.S. History.

She’d asked Gareth to meet her behind the bleachers after school, and Eddie had told him not to go, told him not to risk it, but Gareth was so fucking stubborn. The girl was cute, and the idiot had thought he could handle it. By the time Eddie had realized Gareth had ignored his warnings, it was too late.

Eddie had been so close to cleaning everything up seamlessly, and then some cheerleader had to go and stumble upon Gareth, Eddie, and the bloodless corpse of that poor girl. Eddie’s instincts had taken over, and before he knew it he’d grabbed the cheerleader by the shoulders and used every ounce of willpower he could muster to convince her that she hadn’t seen them at all, and in fact what she had actually seen was U.S. History girl walking into the woods behind the school.

It had been a desperate, kneejerk reaction, and Eddie had had next to no confidence it would work, but the next day he’d been amazed to hear that exact story being repeated through the rumor mill word for word. It gave Eddie and Gareth the cover they’d needed to take the girl’s body to the Upside Down and hide it where no one would think to look.

His abilities were handy tricks to have, sure… but it scared him. Eddie didn’t like that every new power he discovered within himself gave him a new way to get away with something awful. Eddie didn’t trust himself enough for that knowledge to sit well with him.

Now, he sat in the cafeteria at his usual table with Gareth, eyes sweeping the room for your face. He hadn’t seen you in the halls yet today, and even though he had every reason to be confident that you wouldn’t remember last night, he’d never tried to erase memories from a Slayer before. Maybe you had some sort of mental defenses against him? Maybe you were already waiting at his trailer, stake in hand? The unknown of it all was stressing Eddie out.

That’s what he was feeling- stress. Not guilt. Eddie had hardened his undead heart enough that he didn’t feel guilty for things like this anymore. If he had been completely honest about his powers at Benny’s, there’s no way you would have trusted him after that. After being an active player in your wet dream without your consent? He didn't know many people who wouldn’t hate his guts after that- hell, he hated his own guts after that. He was a horny creep who’d violated you in more ways than one, and there was no way anyone could forgive him for that. Why should you?

He could have been honest about his memory manipulating abilities, but the idea of giving that secret away had simply scared him too much. It was easier to keep that in his back pocket, and wasn’t that what you always had against him, after all? A wooden stake, always ready and waiting as a last resort. A failsafe.

No. Eddie didn’t feel guilty. For the sake of his own self-preservation, he couldn’t.

As if on cue, Eddie perked up when he saw you enter the cafeteria. Act casual, he reminded himself. He couldn’t act like anything was out of the ordinary, but at the same time he needed to be sure you remembered nothing. Then he could move on, not feel as… stressed.

He watched you discreetly, looking up from his crumpled bag of pretzels every twenty seconds or so to check if you were looking at him. You sat at your normal table on the opposite side of the room, pulling a sandwich from your bag and quietly began to eat your lunch. You didn’t seem to be the least bit concerned with where Eddie was, much less whether or not he was looking at you.

Suddenly, as if you could feel his gaze on you, your eyes flicked up and locked with his. For a split second, Eddie’s confidence in his powers faltered- maybe his powers were useless against you; maybe you remembered last night in all its shameful glory. The jig is up, he thought, I’m caught. Let justice be served.

But all you did was smile at him and give a little wave before turning back to your sandwich.

Eddie felt a nudge at his elbow from Gareth. “You good, man?” the floppy haired boy glanced in your direction, raising an eyebrow in question.

You didn’t remember. Eddie should be relieved… he’d successfully befriended, seduced, and fooled The Slayer. This was a good thing.

“Yeah,” he huffed, reassuring Gareth with a curt nod. “I’m good.”

Good. Such a relative term. So many definitions for the word good, and yet not a single one would make ‘I’m good’ anything but a lie when it came from Eddie’s mouth.

He ran his tongue over one of his sharpened canines, pressing it into the tip hard enough to break skin. The taste of your blood that still lingered in his veins flooded his mouth for a split second before the puncture healed itself, and he closed his eyes to savor you for a moment.

No; Eddie Munson wasn’t good. He hadn’t been good for a very long time.

Taglist (just some people I think will be interested, as well as those who I've spoken to about this story during the MONTHS it took to finally finish): @the-unforgivenn, @vintagehellfire, @munson-blurbs, @littlesubbyflower, @msgexymunson, @hellfire--cult, @word-wytch, @carolmunson, @bettyfrommars

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #vampire eddie munson #vampire!eddie munson #slayer!reader #vampire slayer reader #buffy the vampire slayer #Spotify

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mayullla · 9 months

Text

Quest: Farmers need help at the barn

Character(s): Harpy (Unnamed character/original work) Summary: You are an adventurer, taking up missions and quests in the guild. And this you choose to help out a monster barn, unknown to you that a certain feathered monster thought of you as his mate. Tags/Warnings: Yandere!monster, fem!reader, general yandere themes, violence (murder, etc), monster slavery, mating/courting rituals, possessive behavior, blood, human x monster romance, misunderstandings, obsessive monster

"I am so sorry! We had opened the cop for the harpies so that we could go and collect their eggs but it seems that one was sneaky enough to get out of the cage and run away!!"

Arriving at the farm you were immediately greeted with a farmer, tall and gruff, certainly strong enough to deal with monsters yet panicked as one had escaped the pen, and with barely enough staff currently he definitely needed help.

"I am really sorry, we will pay you more for the trouble." The farmer said asking you to search for the harpy that got away. It was a monster after all and with a human village near here, you could not help but become a little concerned.

"We also have someone else looking for the harpy right now, if needed and the harpy had placed humans in danger the guy has a bow ready to shoot." He had told you that the monster ran away to the forest and could not have gone far away as they were able to land a shot on its wing. He gave you a map and guided you to the gate of the forest, leaving just as soon.

Except you were not sure if you were really going the right way!!

You looked at the map and frowned. You have been walking around the forest for what felt like hours now and just could not find the harpy that escaped!

Sighing as you looked at the sun still up so high you wondered if you would be stuck here searching for this monster the whole day. Really you hoped that it would end as soon as possible so that you could finally go home or maybe get a quest that won't cost you to circle the forest tens of times...

"Grrr..." You looked behind you, ready to attack whatever creature that made that sound in the forest. Yet nothing showed themselves to you as you constantly hear the growls and somehow had a mix of pain with it. Heading towards the sound as cautiously as possible you found a hidden cave and cautiously went in.

You were surprised to find a harpy in the dark dreary place. And you also noticed that one of his wings was bleeding. An arrow wound you were sure was done by a hunter and another one on its thigh.

It was easy to connect the dots somewhat, the harpy met the hunter somewhere in the forest and managed to get away but the hunter still managed to get his thigh with an arrow. He hid himself, unable to fly back to his home and also started screeching at night to ward off any predators that could have found him.

He glared at you as he dragged himself deeper into the small cave to get away from you. Screeching in hopes that you would become afraid and run away. But instead, you slowly went over to him, with a soft voice trying to calm it down. "Hey, it is fine... You will be alright."

It didn't trust you at all but after offering it a bit of food and encouraging words and with time, still cautious of you he finally let you come closer. You tried to be careful when applying ointment and bandaging up his wing and then later his thigh, one wrong move can get you clawed by the monster.

It seemed very used to humans, you were at first sure that it would take longer to calm the harpy down but that doesn't seem the case when it looked so innocently at you after you finished bandaging it.

You knew that this was a monster. But right now rather than a wild monster it was more tamed and rather than you fearing him it feared you even more. But work is work, and this was a job that you must do. Your kindness was till this point cause rather than sending the harpy back to the farm still bleeding you prefer that the bird got bandaged up.

Less mess.

"There you go.." you whispered to the male harpy as you slowly backed away from him. He looked at the bandaged wing in wonder, examining it. He then looked at you curiously as to why you would help him.

Harpy feathers, depending on the color and quality can go for a lot of money even more if it was the whole wing itself. A lot of humans search for such monsters wanting to capture them if they were wild creatures. You knew that yourself, when you were helping the creature you knew that this particular harpy has definitely been hunted young or bred and then sold by the farm for his beautiful feathers.

You shrugged at his actions. "You are hurt." You whispered at it wondering if it would actually understand what you said while some harpies from what you heard can speak human language; this one in particular didn't seem to be able to do so much. Moments like these you thought of those books where the main character would tell the monster to run away and that this was its chance to do so but that wasn't you. You needed him back at that farm.

"Th-thank you..."

You were taken back a little when you heard the monster's voice looking up at him. "Huh...?" "T-thank you."

...You weren't able to stand his genuine yet still mildly confused eyes, choosing to look away. As you headed out of the cave not looking back, sure that the harpy would not come back to attack you. For once you felt guilty. You took a moment to collect yourself ready to get him to the farm when you heard bushes rustle. Pulling out your dagger you were ready to attack when you saw the same farmer this morning along with someone else.

"You are here! Good that we found you! The hunter here was able to land a shot on the harpy's thigh again while it was escaping from him and we followed the blood." The farmer told you, also saying something about his part in the farm work being finished, that he was able to come here and help.

You told them that the harpy they were looking for was inside the cave and that there were no other exits other than here. You told them you bandaged up the monster but it still should not be able to move much. "Thanks a bunch! You are a lifesaver." The farmer continued, "You head back to the farm, we will take care of everything here."

Looking back as they entered the cave you wondered if this counted as betrayal. You weren't sure, but rather than mulling it over you left the place.

From what you have heard the farmer and hunter were able to successfully get the harpy back to the farm. After that trip to the forest, you had a few odd jobs here and there on the farm, not a lot of dealing with the monsters as you need to be specially trained for most of those kinds of work but more so packaging the raw materials and loading them up on the carts to be shipped.

You didn't know that something started to follow you ever since that day. Eyes watching you as you move cans of milk from one side to another, or move and clean the wool shaved off from the weresheeps. Maybe if you noticed those eyes you would have done something about it, but you didn't and by the time you realized it was far too late.

It was one of those small clearings, the bell rang signaling a break for lunch. Under the tree, it shaded you away from the sun you sat to eat your sandwich that the farm provided. The sun was so hot against your skin that it made you work quite a sweat.

"Care if I join you?" The gruff voice made you jump in surprise as you looked to your side to see the same man you saw who was together with the farmer in the forest. It was the hunter you thought to yourself as you gave him a place to sit.

"Hey, thanks for the help last time. Because of you the harpy had his guard lowered and we were able to capture him without much of a problem. That guy is a little smart for its own good." The hunter introduced himself, stating that he was also an adventurer like you but would help this farm often when they needed some hands as he was friends with the owner.

You chatted for a while, and you found out that the hunter was a married man with a daughter and a wife who was pregnant with another child. "My daughter is a pretty girl. She also wants to become an adventurer like me. I should introduce the two of you when we have the chance" The hunter joked that it would be nice that his little daughter had a lady who she could look up to.

The hunter looked excited as he also had another daughter and told you how he could not help but spoil his daughter whenever he could. He was hoping that he will have another daughter but his wife wished it would be a boy instead. The hunter, while intimidating looking, was actually more easygoing and casual.

"Oop! That is the bell." You heard the rattle of the bell notifying everyone that you guys need to head back to work. "You have been working here for a bit. How long are you staying?" The hunter asked curiously. You told him that today was your last day, that everything here was under control now. "Ahh, then it is back to the quest for you I guess. Hahah! Well. It was nice to meet ya." The hunter also stated that you guys might see each other probably on another mission or at the guild.

Getting up first, he took his leave having something to do leaving you alone under the tree again. Before getting up you quickly checked your mouth for any crumbs or food that was stuck. Grabbing your mirror from your bag you also checked your teeth. When your name was called by one of the farmers, you hurried. Getting up you shoved your compact mirror into your bag but were unable to properly close your bag being in a hurry.

You didn't see your small compact mirror fall out from your bag, hitting the grass floor as you head inside with the farmer.

When you came back later to look for the mirror after finding out that it was not in your bag you could not find it anywhere...

More precisely it has been swatted away by a certain harpy who was watching you. Keeping the thing close to their chest, with a flush look on their face hoping that he would not be caught yet at the same time hoping he would just so that you would look at him again. But he can't at least not yet.

You finally went back home, after the last long day of working at the barn. Your pay was a little more than the contract, as the owner was generous from the booming business right now. You were ready to hit the bed and after a shower and a lovely dinner, you flopped on your bed.

Your body was relaxed, as you slowly went to dreamland when you suddenly heard a noise outside your window. Opening your eyes you moved to get ready, but you were too slow when the window opened and a black feathered monster rushed in jumping on top of you.

You struggled, but claws caught your arms preventing you from hitting anyone or even getting your dagger from your table side. "Mate!" You heard a chirp and looked up to get a good look at the thing that had you on its hold.

Your eyes widen and your body froze.

You recognize him, the harpy that you bandaged up on the first day of work at the barn. The black feathers and the awkward voice still struggle to follow human speech. Yet unlike before rather than cautious and feral, he was more ecstatic and eager to see you. Impatiently moving your arms as he wrapped his wings around you as if it was trying to hug you.

"Accept.... shiny g-gift... from mate..." His words were hesitant and slow in between chirps. But he wasn't shy, not with how shamelessly he clung to you. Cuddling so tightly as if to get the scent of him on you, rubbing his face under your neck while looking at you with hearts in his eyes when you looked down at him in surprise. "Mate likes... me!"

"What!?" You yelled in confusion, as you tried to shove him away to no avail. There was something wet on his shoulders and chest, something that you could not see properly in the darkness till your eye finally got used to the night. You were terrified.

You could not help but squeak when you saw it. The scent that you smelled from the harpy when he suddenly showed up did you finally understand what that red liquid on his face actually meant. His claws held your wrist preventing you from pushing away. The more you tried to leave the more tight his claws around you became. The heart in his eyes dimmed as he didn't understand why you were trying to push away from him.

"Why...why are you... why are you avoiding me." His voice was angry, a growl-like chirp produced as he forced you back to the bed. You didn't answer yet he followed your eyes and noticed you were looking at the blood on his cheek.

"Hunter... want to kill... me." He glared at you causing you to flinch. Looking away from him to your room, your weapons were too far away for you to grab and swat the harpy away. Regret as you didn't keep at least your dagger close to you. "Hunter... want to kill you... I.... save... you."

Your body felt as if it was growing cold as the harpy chirped in delight. His love-filled eyes back as he thought that you now understand and that you would love him back for doing the same favor for you after you saved him.

The hunter did not want to kill you. You knew at least that much. Yet that same man was killed by the very harpy that he hunted, the one that you have helped.

“I… save you. I love… you. You love me.”

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darksilvania · 5 months

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The 5 Underground Lake pokemon

HAGABABA [Hag + Baba Yaga + Baba (Slime in spanish)] Poison/Dark The Slimey Pokemon Abilities: Gooey/Liquid Ooze - Corrosion (HA) Dex: "It can only be found inside an underground lake where the water has become acidic. Its body is naturally covered by a layer of slime that protects it from the corrosivness. It can alter the properties of the slime all over its body, making it slipery or sticky at will. It can even make it acidic and use it to attack its foes.” Moveset: -Slimeball: >Poison type / pwr 110 / acc 85 / pp 5 “The user spits a large glob of acidic slime to its opponent” >This move its also considered dark type >This move leaves the field covered in slime that causes entry hazard, if the move is used a second time, any entering pokemon will become poisoned -Sludge Wave -Nasty Plot -Acid Armor

THINKERFISK [Thinker + Inketfisk (Octopus in french)] Psychic The Starry-Eyed Pokemon Abilities: Clear Body - Misty Surge (HA) Dex: "It can only be found inside an underground lake where the water has become psychoactive due to the presence of special fungi. This has altered and greatly expanded this pokemons mind.” Its brain is said to be in a constant altered state, thanks to this it has achieved the ability to see through time and space, past and future, and even achieve enlightment.” Moveset: -Psychedelia: >Psychic type / pwr 110 / acc 85 / pp 5 “The user bombards its foe with a terrifying mental blast of changing colors and sounds.” >This move confuses the target. >This move reduces the target speed -Expanding Force -Power Gem -Cosmic Power

SPOOKIMERA [Spooky + Chimaera] Ghost/Flying The Long Nose Pokemon Abilities: Cursed Body - Perish Body (HA) Dex: "It can only be found inside an underground lake where the water has lost all oxygen, making it impossible for anything to live in it. This pokemon are the spirits of the fishes that used to live inside the lake before it became inhospitable, now they remain trapped in it, wearing their old skins as cloaks” Moveset: -Breathtaker: >Ghost type / pwr 110 / acc 85 / pp 5 “The user sucks the air from the field, making breathing harder” >This move its also considered flying type >fire type moves can’t be used after this move. >fog, mist, haze or gas are removed -Hurricane -Ominous Wind -Mean Look

TERRORICE [Terrorize + Ice] Ice/Steel The Terrible Claw Pokemon Abilities: Ice Body - Bulletproof (HA) Dex: "It can only be found inside an underground lake where the water reaches subzero temperatures without freezing. To withstand the cold, it covers itself with a thick ice armor, stronger than steel. Its giant claw works just like a chainsaw, using it to cut through ice and rock when looking for food.” Moveset: -Chilling Chainsaw: >Steel Type/Pwr 110/Acc 85/PP 5 “The user slashes at its opponent using its ice cold chainsaw-like claw” >This move its also considered ice type >If the opponent is frozen, this move deals double damage and removes the frozen condition. -Ice Hammer -Metal Claw -Sword Dance

SCALDORM [Scald + Ormr (Dragon in old norse) Fire/Dragon The Intense Heat Pokemon Abilities: Water Absorb - Storm Drain (HA) Dex: "It can only be found inside an underground lake where the water reaches temperatures above the boiling point without evaporating. It withstands the immense heat thanks to its unique oily skin. It produces an oily substance that protects its skin from the water’s heat, this same oil can be used as fuel, and will keep fire burning even underwater.” Moveset: -Liquid Fire* >Fire type / pwr 110 / acc 85 / pp 5 “The user attacks with a stream of burning oil that remains on the field afterwards” >This move may cause burning >This move leaves a fire entry hazard on the field >This move is super effective against water type pokemon -Scald -Dragon Breath -Fire Spin

#Pokemon #fakemon #fake pokemon #deep sea #deep sea fish #greek mythology #fish pokemon #underworld #poison type #poison fakemon #fire type #fire fakemon #ghost type #ghost fakemon #ice type #ice fakemon #psychic type #psychic fakemon

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alpaca-clouds · 9 months

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The Punk-Factor of Punkpunk Genre

So, when I posted my history of Solarpunk, someone (probably not in good faith) asked: “So, what about the punk in all the other punk genres?!” towards my request to put the punk back into Solarpunk. And given that my autistic brain obviously cannot just let that stand… You know what? Let me talk about the other punk genre and in how far they are “punk”. I tried to be as exhaustive as possible, though there is a good chance, that I might have missed some of the punkpunk genre. So feel free to add.

Trying to judge the punkiness I do not assume punk as simple counter culture, but a specific ideology. Quote from Wikipedia:

[Punk ideology] is primarily concerned with concepts such as mutual aid, against selling out, hierarchy, white supremacy, authoritarianism, anti-consumerism, anti-corporatism, anti-war, imperialism, conservatism, anti-globalization, gentrification, anti-racism, anti-sexism, class and classism, gender equality, racial equality, eugenics, animal rights, free-thought and non-conformity

Most of the artwork here has been taken from concept art of either of the examples listed.

Sorted from most futuristic to pre(historic). Yes, the list is long.

Cyberpunk

We start with the OG punk genre, the one after which all other punk genre were named. Yes, you could argue that in fact the two genre following are more futuristic – but Cyberpunk kinda just had to start the list.

As a genre: Given that Cyberpunk had its start completely in literature it is the best defined in this regard. Taking place in a late stage capitalist dystopian world in which most is owned by megacorps who don’t follow anyone’s laws but their own, the protagonists usually are social outcasts fighting against their own oppression, trying to keep themselves alive in a world hostile to them. With cybernetics always being a core of the genre, it also tends to deal with the question of humanity in a “ship of Theseus” sort of way. How much can the human body be altered, before the human vanishes?

As an aesthetic: Cyberpunk is the most punk in terms of aesthetics, really. There is a lot of punk and grunge going on in terms of character design. Neon hair colors, fishnets and thorn up jeans jackets can be found here. As well as of course cybernetics on the characters. The world usually is a megacity with a stark divide between rich and poor, tons of neon signs, a slight Japanese influence, flying cars and somehow a constant downpour of rain.

Punk-Factor: Cyberpunk is the one punk genre, where the “punk” was chosen very knowingly as a name. Usually the protagonists are “punks” fighting for their place in the world against a suppressive capitalist system. (Also, they usually fit the punk aesthetic, if they don’t wear leather dusters.) It should be noted however, that especially in newer western Cyberpunk often the punkiness vanishes more and more – for the same reason we have so little Solarpunk: media that outright confronts the problems of capitalism is just less supported.

Examples: Neuromancer (1984), Mirrorshades: The Cyberpunk Anthology (1986), Snow Crash (1992), The Matrix (1999), Dredd (2012)

Biopunk

As a genre: As a genre biopunk is still fairly ill defined, as it mostly shows up as a subsection of Cyberpunk. Rather than the characters having cybernetic implants (or additionally to it) they are augmented on a genetic level. This can be all sorts of augmentations, changing anything from appearance to giving characters higher strength and agility, giving them claws or night vision, or in some cases even “magic” powers. Usually the genre tends to be set in worlds similar to Cyberpunk. In fact it might well be set in a cyberpunk world, only that characters with bioaugmentations exist parallel to those with cybernetics. Additionally, though, there is a subsection of this genre, that concerns reproductive rights.

As an aesthetic: Ironically biopunk is even less defined as an aesthetic. There is not a lot of biopunk art out there and most that exists can go in different directions. As such it often mixes elements from other punk aesthetics – like Cyberpunk, Steampunk or Dieselpunk – with an assortment of bodyhorror elements.

Punk-Factor: It is hard to define the “punkiness” of a genre, that barely exists for the most part. Usually, when it is set against a Cyberpunk backdrop, it might be very punky, but in other settings those punk elements vanish.

Examples: Ribofunk (1995), Altered Carbon (2002), Bioshock (2007), The Windup Girl (2009)

Nanopunk

As a genre: Like Biopunk Nanopunk mostly exists as a subsubgenre to Cyberpunk, often being set in a mostly Cyberpunk world, only that instead of or additionally to Cybernetics, the technology used to alter the human body is nanites. These serve the same function as the genetic manipulation in Biopunk, giving the human in question more strength and agility and at times more or less magical abilities. There is one common plot that comes up again and again, with an AI or megacorp turning the nanites against the people they inhabit or trying to control them.

As an aesthetic: Aesthetically Nanopunk does not have much in terms of its own identity. Most artworks relating to Nanopunk feature a similar aesthetic to Cyberpunk, with megacities and lots of neon.

Punk-Factor: This genre is so small, that it is kinda hard to judge the exact punkiness.

Examples: The Diamond Age (1995), Prey (2002)

Solarpunk

As a genre: Being another genre, that started as such, Solarpunk is a bit better defined. Solarpunk usually takes place in a world post-strive. It is post-capitalist and decolonial in its settings, usually featuring a world that has either formed against the backdrop of preventing climate collapse or in the aftermath of it. A lot of it features people rebuilding – or alternatively building communities. It always features elements about living in harmony with nature or trying to do so. So far, the genre is mostly defined by short stories, partly because there is still disagreements within the movement, how far a conflict can be taken to still qualify as Solarpunk.

As an aesthetic: Solarpunk has a very strong aesthetic definition, mostly featuring all sorts of cities and urban areas, that incorporate natural elements into the urbanity, with greenery growing on roofs and concrete car-centric streets being replaced with more natural, walkable areas. The character design aesthetic is not quite as clearly defined, but usually features natural materials and patterns usually seen within indigenous art.

Punk-Factor: Contrary to what many say, Solarpunk is fairly punk, as it very much embraces the entire anti-hierarchical, anti-capitalist mentality. With the big difference, that the punk mentality is no longer counter culture, but the mainstream culture.

Examples: The Dispossessed (1974), Nausicaä (1984), Laputa – Castle in the Sky (1986), Princess Mononoke (1997), The Summer Prince (2013)

Lunarpunk

As a genre: Lunarpunk is pretty much a subsubgenre of Solarpunk, just as Nanopunk and Biopunk are sprung off from Cyberpunk. It is so far ill-defined as a genre, but the general consensus is, that it is set in solarpunk-esque worlds, but with a heavier focus on mysticism or spiritualism, at times outright including magic. It also tends to feature a lot darker places, being set in underwater or underground settings – or alternatively at night.

As an aesthetic: Lunarpunk is far more of an aesthetic than a genre so far. It features dark places, often with bioluminescent elements in it. Often featuring a mixture of black and dark blue with lighter blue, violet or light green elements shining in the middle of it. Mushrooms – especially glowing mushrooms – feature repeatedly in artwork.

Punk-Factor: Given that Lunarpunk is barely defined as a genre it is hard to estimate the punkiness in it. If it gets more stories, will those still feature the anti-capitalist and anti-hierarchical messaging we see in Solarpunk? This should be the defining factor. Some of the artworks use little aesthetics from the punk scene, but nothing much more.

Examples: Bioluminescent: A Lunarpunk Anthology (2023)

Hopepunk

Honestly, I had no idea where to put this one, given that it might technically be set at any time and place.

As a genre: Hopepunk is very much a genre, not an aesthetic. It has been defined as the opposite of grimdark by its “inventor/name-giver” Alexandra Rowland. The basic idea is to create fiction that instead of taking a dystopian, defeatist and violent approach, takes one defined by hope and to some degree pacifism. As such the genre can be set in any setting, real or fantastic. It mostly is defined by the protagonists taking opposition to cruelty and violence, fighting for a better world and, crucially, also partly archiving it. Other than in usual Cyberpunk, where the best possible ending, tends to be, that the protagonists get to live a somewhat better life themselves, Hopepunk aims to better the life at least for groups of people.

As an aesthetic: Being fully a genre, Hopepunk has no aesthetic associated with it.

Punk-Factor: Hopepunk is punk less in the sense of the protagonists or things happening within the story, which might or might not be punk, but was named such rather because it is considered counter cultural towards the gross of media at the moment, that often strives for a “realistic, gritty, grimdark” outlook on the world. Basically it is saying: “Hope is punk.” I will not make any judgement on whether or not this is true.

Examples: The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet (2014), Mad Max: Fury Road (2015), The Good Place (2016)

Mythpunk

As a genre: Another one, that does not really fit into a temporal sorting system, because once again it can be set anywhere between the stone age and the far future. The basic idea is, that the story interweaves postmodern storytelling with elements from mythology or folklore. This can mean mythological, genre-traversing retellings, but it can also mean, that mythology seeps into any given story bit by bit. As such the genre with probably the most media in the subgenre is Urban Fantasy, which often borrows from mythology and incorporates these elements.

As an aesthetic: Mythpunk as an aesthetic is a bit strange. There is definitely a mythpunk aesthetic that exists, often mixing familiar elements with elements from mythology and folklore (at times also including quasi-folkloric works of literature, such as Alice in Wonderland and the Wizard of Oz). Often just a bit dark and twisted.

Punk-Factor: To be perfectly frank, for the most part, there is not a lot of punk to be found in this genre. While there have been definitely punky stories told within the genre, this is more a story decision than something inherent to the genre.

Examples: Pan’s Labyrinth (2006), Over the Garden Wall (2014), Inscryption (2016)

Dustpunk / Rustpunk / Desertpunk

As a genre: Kinda grouping those above all together, because people argue about what they might entail and in some interpretations they kinda are similar: Post-apocalyptic stories set in a world of sand and rust. Often featuring a loner character, having to go up against everyone to ensure his own survival – and at times being forced to learn, that the lonerness might not win him (and most often it is a him) anything.

As an aesthetic: Aesthetically this tends to be very much post-apocalyptic, maybe in some cases with some more classical punk elements added to characters and surroundings.

Punk-Factor: Given that there is neither a system to rage against – nor a new, less hierarchical system – usually there is not that much punk outside of some aesthetic choices. Neither tend those stories go into constructing worlds of mutual aid or working against oppression.

Examples: Anything Mad Max should count for this.

Atompunk

As a genre: Atompunk usually deals with themes connected to the cold war – in some cases directly, in some indirectly. Often it overplays the American ideals that were pushed for during the cold war era and portrays scenarios in which American Exceptionalism slowly reveals itself as the dystopia most punks already know it to be. Outside of this vague idea for the setting, the genre is less described, as there is less of a clear script an Atompunk story might follow. So, little description of who might be the protagonist and what their role is.

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic of Atompunk borrows heavily from the Raygun Gothic aesthetic. So, futurism, as it was imagined in the 1950s and 1960s, with heavy influences from late pulp age science fiction art.

Punk-Factor: The aesthetic in this is definitely not punk. The stories often have some vague punk ideas of recognizing how fucked up the world has become, but given the genre is fairly wide in terms of stories, it is hard to give a definite answer to how “punk” it is. One can definitely tell punk stories within this genre, though.

Examples: Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy (1978), Fallout (1997), Futurama (1999)

Dieselpunk

As a genre: Dieselpunk is once again an example of “strong aesthetic, but no clear genre identity”. Generally, Dieselpunk is concerned with the interwar period, but might cover either of the world wars. In some cases the genre features alternate timelines, in which one war happened and not the other, or in which another faction won, with the technological development being influenced by this as well. But as a genre it is not much defined. A lot of stories building on Lovecraft’s legacy feature Dieselpunk in some regards. And there is definitely a subsection of Dieselpunk stories centered around “what if Nazis won” or “what if Nazis somehow went underground and did their own technological development after the war”. Also, there are a lot of stories about pilots of war planes in this genre.

As an aesthetic: As an aesthetic Dieselpunk is more clearly defined. A lot of bare metal and the sorts of technology you would expect from this era, often with retro-futurist and art noveau elements in between. A lot of the fashion within the genre is defined by pilot and military clothing of the times, but at times also dipping into “roaring 20s” fashion styles.

Punk-Factor: In this genre I would generally say: “If the story involves punching Nazis, you might get a couple punk points – but otherwise this is not really punk.”

Examples: The Iron Dream (1972), Brazil (1985), Dark City (1998), Iron Sky (2012), Bitter Seeds (2010)

Teslapunk

As a genre: Yet another one of these, that exists mostly as a vague idea, with no clear definition. The basic idea is a world, that works on Tesla’s inventions. And as those of you, who watched Doctor Who, might know, Tesla sorta, kinda already invented the internet or had an idea of what it could be and how it could work. So a Teslapunk world is based in an alternate timeline, but might in fact go into light futurism. There is not much in this genre though with a unique thematic identity, as stories that use Teslapunk as a backdrop rarely have coherent themes.

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic of Teslapunk is basically “Steampunk, but with Tesla-coils and electricity”. Which is not a big surprise given that Tesla came from the same era that would also be the inspiration for Steampunk. So, we have a lot of Victorian fashion, maybe some light augmentation, airships, and – again – all the tesla coils you can muster.

Punk-Factor: As, again, I think punk is more about themes than aesthetic, this is once more not really possible to judge, because there do not seem coherent themes within the genre so far.

Examples: The Prestige (2006), Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011), Bioshock Infinite (2013)

Arcanepunk

Another one of those that do not neatly fit into the timeline…

As a genre: Arcanepunk takes place in a world, where both magic and technology have developed. In some cases both developed side by side, in others, we might have a technological world, that suddenly discovers magic by some happenstance. The fact is, though, that both exist parallel to each other or might at times be intertwined, with technology being powered by magic. This can exist at different technological stages, usually featuring settings inspired by the late 19th or early 20th century. But usually futuristic stuff that includes magic might be considered Arcanepunk, just as might stories that mix 18th century technology with magic. While also a vague genre, there is a repeating theme of magic being hoarded by those in powers and the poor and downtrodden finding ways to still use it in their own advantage.

As an aesthetic: Given that Arcanepunk’s setting is defined by the co-existence of magic and technology, rather than a specific technology, Arcanepunk has less of a defined aesthetic. Never the less, we have a part of punk aesthetics that often come up, as a surprising amount of Arcanepunk features characters with neon colored hair.

Punk-Factor: Another genre that is rather thin, yet, there is a surprising amount of stories featuring some punk ideas of fighting against an oppressive system and being counter culture to a main culture build around suppression.

Examples: Too Many Magicians (1966), Shadowrun (1989), Bartimaeus (2003), Arcane (2021) duh

Steampunk

Steampunk was the second genre to pick up the “punk” suffix and hence is as much responsible for the punk-punk as Cyberpunk as the originator.

As a genre: Being named as early as it has been, Steampunk kinda suffers the same issue as Cyberpunk itself. There is a lot of ideas there, but some are only vaguely defined. In general, though Steampunk always takes place in a world where the steam engine became the defining technology and was never replaced with the combustion engine. As such cultural aspects from the steam era, especially Victorian England and the Belle Epoche, still carry over for longer, than they did. So often we will see noble households based around similar values as the puritan Victorian English families, while the very poor are made to work in workhouses. At times we might also see themes of colonialism here. In some cases magic might exist in these worlds, as might electricity for some aspects. There is often a heavy inspiration from Jules Verne and H.G. Wells. Though it is still hard to define the “stereotypical steampunk story”, given that Steampunk offers a wide variety of stories, from adventure stories and romances, over to stories where people rise up against the Victorian-esque society.

As an aesthetic: Steampunk as an aesthetic is very much influenced by Victorian aesthetics and the time period of the late 19th century, mostly in the USA, Great Britain and France. But as all other punk genres it knows very well: “If it is worth doing, it is worth overdoing,” so steam-related elements are added to everything. Could

Punk-Factor: In the original idea for Steampunk was a lot of punk. “What if we took Cyberpunks ‘rage against the unjust system’ and made it 19th century” they asked. But given that the genre branched out so much, it is not necessarily there in all the stories. There is a ton of stories where people rage against that steam powered Victorian machine – but also a ton in which the Victorian world gets idealized and romanticized.

Examples: Thief (1998), The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen (1999), Wild Wild West (1999), Clockwork Century (2008) – also half of all Sherlock Holmes adaption made after 2000 in any medium usually use Steampunk elements

Silkpunk

As a genre: Silkpunk is hard to define, despite there being a clear definition. The reason for this is, that the person who coined the term – Ken Liu – had a very specific idea in mind. He explains that the idea is of a world that has technology as language. In which form is as important as function, is made to speak a language all of its own. Inspired by ideas from W. Brian Arthur and Chinese philosophy. However, what the wider Science Fiction and Fantasy community made from it was “Steampunk but East Asian!” But given he coined the term (and also the alternative feels vaguely racist) I am going to go with Ken Liu for this. While Silkpunk will usually be set in an East Asian inspired world, the central idea is about the duality of technology, which will also be addressed within the stories.

As an aesthetic: As said above, the idea Liu had for it was a world that features some technology, but technology that is as much about form and communication through it, as it is about function. So the technology here has strong visual ideas. At least that was, how Liu intended it. Once again, the wider community made “Steampunk, but East Asian” out of it.

Punk-Factor: There is not a lot of stuff in this genre for now – however so far I do not manage to see a lot of punk ideas in it, even though some of Liu’s stories definitely feature the concept of challenging a higher power.

Examples: Dandelion Dynasty (2015), The Black Tides of Heaven (2018), The Tea Master and the Detective (2019)

Clockpunk

As a genre: Once again storytelling in this genre is not really defined, but the worlds diverge a bit before the wide adaption of steam, instead featuring mechanical devices powered by coils and springs and somehow kept alive, often at least implied through some form of arcane magic that gives “live” to these mechanical inventions. Most examples of Clockpunk, however, tend to show up as settings for parts of fantasy stories. Any fantasy world might have this “Clockpunk” area, where protagonists might travel. Especially games tend to feature this. While there is definitely a trope of the “mad inventor” often going along with this, few other tropes stand out.

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic of Clockpunk tends to take some inspiration from the early 19th century, but tends to add a lot of gears to everything, with even city wide gear constructions keeping things working. We often will find mechatronic characters, such as wind up soldiers or wind up dancers.

Punk-Factor: Once more, there are so few stories told, that it is kinda hard to speak about how punk this is. Most stories told so far, however, do not feature punk elements.

Examples: The Great Mouse Detective (1986), Hugo (2011), Clockwork Planet (2017)

Whalepunk

Please note: This is one of those genre, I would love to see more in, though so far it is barely explored.

As a genre: And you might ask: “Why do you even name those genre, that exist mostly in theory?”, to which I might answer: “Because I am a nerd.” As all these retrofuturists genre, Whalepunk imagines mostly an alternate historical timeline, where the technology that became defining was based around whale oil. This means that in Whalepunk often whalers or harbors play a big role, though as the genre is again very thinly spread, it is hard to say what “THE whalepunk” formular is. It seems there is a tendency, to mix some mysticism or magic into the genre, though, as the idea of hunting sea monsters often plays into it as well. Good chance that it could at some point merge with Cthulupunk (which I did not name separately, because most of it is either covered in Whalepunk or Dieselpunk).

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic of Whalepunk is basically “Steampunk, but with more sailors, ships and sea monsters”. There is definitely a bit of Oceanpunk mixed into it as well, with some aesthetics being somewhere between Steampunk and Dieselpunk. (Which is kinda ironic, because whale oil was mostly used in the early 19th century.)

Punk-Factor: And again. There so far is not a lot of connective thematic tissue within that genre, so exploring themes is kinda hard.

Examples: Dishonored (2012), Dredge (2023)

Oceanpunk / Piratepunk

As a genre: It really is hard to divide the Piratepunk out of the Oceanpunk, though some might call it different. The idea here is that this genre features stories mostly set on the ocean and often more heavily leaning into fantasy, than science fiction. While the worlds might feature technological elements, they will almost certainly feature magical elements of some sort. The characters will usually be seafaring one way or another and stories might involve any sort of adventure. There might be a storyline, though, about one company or nation trying to control the seas – often times through magical means – with the characters often unwillingly being made to oppose them. This genre might also take place in a post-apocalyptic setting with a flooded planet.

As an aesthetic: While the aesthetic is not clearly defined, there is a good chance that it borrows heavily from the late 17th and early 18th century and the golden age of piracy, when it comes to both ships and fashion sensibilities.

Punk-Factor: Pirates, at least as far as modern media imagines them, tend to be very punk, as they tend to inherently oppose any sort of government and what not. While the punk is not there in all of the stories, a lot of the most popular stories from the genre will feature at least lightly punky elements.

Examples: One Piece (1997), Pirates of the Caribbean (2003), Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag (2013)

Dungeonpunk

As a genre: So, the idea of the genre is basically “What if Cyberpunk, but Dungeons & Dragons?” Usually set in a vaguely medieval world, this world still shows the same corporate corruption as your usual Cyberpunk world. Adventurers are just another resource to be exploited by the system, their day job involving going on yet another dungeon crawl. For this there might be some technology entirely powered by magic, with those magic items taking over the same functions technology might have in a Cyberpunk world. And yes, indeed some brave dwarf, elf or halfling might rise up and challenge the corporate dungeon syndicate. (As you might sense: Yes, this genre tends to be at least partly a bit of a parody of the punkpunk idea. Though it also can be played straight as “Cyberpunk conflicts, just that all technology is somehow magic.”)

As an aesthetic: This is once again one of the examples, where there is a clear idea behind it – but absolutely no clear aesthetic, as this genre might cover anything from medieval settings to a lot more modern stuff.

Punk-Factor: The base idea, being heavily inspired by the base idea of Cyberpunk, just from a very different perspective. But too many people read the genre as “Magic Technology, yay”, in which case, no, it is not punk.

Examples: Dungeons & Dragons can be played this way, also Final Fantasy VI – XIII definitely counts.

Sandalpunk

As a genre: I mostly include this for the sake of it, because this genre tends to boil down to “fantasy set in ancient Greece or Rome, but with vaguely anachronistic elements”. It might also include alternate history stories (even going so far as Science Fiction) based on the idea “What if Ancient Rome/Ancient Greece never fell?” There is no real overarching themes, even though I could imagine some interesting way one could build those up. So far, though, it is mostly a vague gesture towards: “SciFi Fantasy, but with more ancient civilizations.”

As an aesthetic: The aesthetic is usually just Ancient Rome or Ancient Greece, but with more magic or anachronistic elements.

Punk-Factor: Given the super vague nature of the genre and the fact that it seems more like a genre of hindsight (with most media being declared this having been released even before 2000)… Nobody wrote those stories to be punk. The one punk thing I can see about several of these stories is people challenging Gods, but… That’s about it.Examples: Hercules: Legendary Journeys (1995), Xena: Warrior Princess (1995), God of War (2005)

Stonepunk

As a genre: The basic idea of Stonepunk is, that it is set in a stone age world, but with the technology being pressed towards a very anachronistic end, which is often played for laughs. Basically it gives stone age people a modern seeming world, though not really. Often enough this is used to make a point about the modern world and parody it in some regard. An argument can be made for stories, that feature stone age technology people being somehow subjected to modern technology (for example through time travel or space travel) also possibly falling into this genre.

As an aesthetic: Usually the aesthetic of Stonepunk is one of an overplayed stone age setting. The clothing characters might wear are not what we know is historically more accurate but really just “everyone wears a pelt around their shoulders”. Meanwhile stone age tools get spun to be used as all sorts of modern technologies.

Punk-Factor: The genre does usually not feature punk themes. However, the nature of parodying and challenging the modern world tends to be punk in its own merit, I assume?

Examples: The Flintstones (1960), The Croods (2013), Horizon: Zero Dawn (2017)

That's it. That's the list.

Feel free to add to it.

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samkerrworshipper · 8 months

Note

Please could you do an imagine with Lucy bronze where the reader is also on the England team and gets injured during a game and Lucy is basically just being really cute and fluffy as well as a little protective 🥰

AHHH

I loved this request sm so here you go!

i feel like this could be followed up with a part 2 to expand on the reader and lucy’s relationship so lmk if you want to see that! also please feel free to keep sending in requests god knows i need inspo rn lol

A shoulder to cry on

Lucy Bronze x Reader

fluff, lil bit of angst, injury, graphic injury, pain, hurt/comfort, 3200 words

blurb: when lucy’s girlfriend goes down in a match how does she deal with it and how does lucy look react

I was too busy watching the ball flying towards goal to see the body flying at me. Too busy focusing on the Australian goalkeeper to acknowledge the knees slowly sliding under my own feet. Too busy focusing on getting my team a goal to give us a chance to stop myself from being floored by the Australian whirlwind, Ellie Carpenter. I went head first into the turf, my body flopping down onto the grass with my head dug into the dirt. My ears were ringing and I was a groaning mess. My whole body hurt and I couldn’t even muster the energy to turn over to access the damage that had been inflicted. All I could feel was gut wrenching pain, from my feet all the way to my hip.

When I was finally turned over I was met with the sight of Ellie and Steph Catley, two Australians that I didn’t want to see right now. I was a screaming, shaking, crying mess. Both women were very clearly taken aback by my emotion. The stadium was a ruckus, and as my teary eyes flashed up I saw my goal being replayed on the big screen, a goal. At least that was something, I’d done something to help us claw our way back. We were 100 days off from the World Cup start though, 100 days. Judging by the amount of pain I was in though that was nowhere near enough time.

As a professional athlete there is always the background fear that you are going to get injured. An overwhelming worry constantly in the back of your head that maybe this time it is going to be your last, maybe the next time you step on the field it might be the last time in a while. As you become a professional, as you start playing for your nation you learn to silence that part of your brain, you can’t afford to live in fear that you are going to get hurt. But watching teammates, friends, people you love get hurt, reinstalls that part of your brain, makes you wonder if maybe you are next, maybe next time it’ll be your turn. That fear though, it’s nothing in comparison to actually getting hurt, nothing in comparison to realising maybe this time it actually is your last.

That was all I could think about as the two Australian women tried to talk to me, tried to communicate with me. The first one of my teammates to rush over was Leah, who shoved both Australians away before crouching down beside me.

“Hey y/n, take a deep breath, the medics are about to get here, you don’t need to worry.”

Leah’s words were like a breath of fresh air, a break from the constant ringing in my ears.

“L-ucy, need Lucy.”

Leah nodded at me, smiling down at my face and nodding. Her hand made it’s way down to my face and wiped away the tears that were falling.

“She’s on her way angel, just stay patient for me, she’s making her way over, just take those deep breaths.”

“Hurts, hurts so fucking bad.”

Leah nodded at me, I watched her eyes creep down my body to my legs and that was how I knew it was bad, because not even Leah could avoid looking.

“I know, I know angel, I am so sorry that I can’t do anything about that. Just keep taking those deep breaths for me.”

I couldn’t help but continue to sob as I waited for someone, anyone to give me some kind of relief. All I could feel was pain and it was clear in Leah’s mannerisms that she didn’t really know how to help me, how was she supposed to help me?

“Y/n, listen to me, take a deep breath, I know you are in pain, the medics are getting here as fast as they can so you just need to take some deep breaths.”

It didn’t help that we were positioned on the opposite side of the field that the medics would be on and it was also a problem that if the umpire hadn’t blown her whistle they wouldn’t be allowed on.

“How bad is it?”

The words left my mouth in between sobs and breaths. Leah clearly didn’t know what to say, she clearly didn’t want to worry me any more but Leah wasn’t a good liar and she had a shit poker face.

“Don’t worry about that, keep your eyes on me. It’s just me and you, kiddo.”

Leah had taken me under her wing long ago, she treated me like her little sister.

I watched her eyes flash up in a panic and before I knew it she was jumping off of her feet and rushing off in the direction behind my head. I couldn’t help but turn my head to watch where she was going. I was still a little bit spaced out so it took me a few seconds to spot her out but once I did I found her rushing towards Ellie, who was sitting a few metres behind me. I couldn’t figure out why she was rushing over until I spotted Lucy approaching, running towards her, a look of absolute anger on her face. Leah was trying to get to her before Lucy inevitably got to Ellie. I watched it unfold as Lucy just made it to Ellie before Leah did, yanking her up by under her armpits.

I didn’t get to see much more, my head was pulled back to being flat on the turf by Millie and Sam Kerr, my ex-teammates from Chelsea.

“Hey y/n/n, the medics are just about to get here, it’s going to be alright.”

Millie’s tone of voice was similar to that of Leah’s, calm, patient, the voice of a captain.

“I need Lucy.”

Lucy was my other half. The love of my life, my everything. I wanted her, I wanted her to be there to hold my hand and to tell me that everything was going to be fine, even if it wasn’t.

“I know, Leah’s sorting her out, she’ll be here in a minute.”

Lucy was insanely protective over me, to a concerning degree. In the past year I’d made the decision to move to Barca, to be with her and it had been great but something I’d learnt from playing alongside her regularly was that she was a little bit too protective over the people she loved. A defender did so much as foul me on the pitch and she did everything in her power to seek some sort of revenge whether it was in the form of physically hurting them or doing anything in her power to get to them.

“I need her Mil, please.”

Millie nodded at me and then looked at Sam, I was in fucking shambles.

“I’ll go get her okay, feel better kid.”

Sam patted me gently on the shoulder before leaving just me and Millie. I was still lying on the pitch, fighting back more tears as I looked up into the sky and just prayed for this to all be over, for the pain to subside and for everything to just dissipate.

The medics were the next people to make it over to us, accompanied by Sarina and our trainer. The game had obviously been stopped for me so they seemed to be in a rush to get me off, with my goal we had a shot at winning now.

“Hi Ms y/l/n, how are you feeling?”

“In pain.”

My answer was flat and the medic let out an empty laugh at my reply.

“Okay, on a scale of 1-10 where would you put yourself at?”

“A 6.”

Sarina snorted at my reply, she knew that I had a high threshold for pain, I’d met her originally when I was playing as a rookie for Chelsea, she’d been the Netherlands coach at time and the coach for a professional team in the Netherlands which she’d tried to recruit me for but I’d turned her down. I’d never have guessed a few years later she would be coaching me on a National level.

“That means its a nine.”

I glared at Sarina, she knew me a little bit too well.

“Okay, this is a penthrox whistle, it should administer immediate pain relief, enough that we should be able to get you on the stretcher and off the pitch.”

I looked at Millie, then at Sarina, then at the Medic, immediately shaking my head.

“I’m walking off.”

All of their faces told me that I was missing something.

“I can’t allow you to do that.”

In all of the chaos, all of the emergence, I hadn’t had the opportunity to even look at the source of my pain.

Before I could say anything more Lucy was crouching down beside my head and I couldn’t have been more grateful to see her. Her hand slid into mine and just her face, her smile, it was enough to make me feel like I wasn’t fighting a fucking battle.

“Luce, can you please tell them to let me walk off the pitch, just let me have that.”

I was fighting back tears and I could tell that Lucy was fighting an internal battle. Her eyes flashed down to my legs and then back to my face and just the split second gasp was enough to tell me that it was bad, really bad. Her hand fell to my face and that was how I knew it was not good and that was when I started sobbing again.

“How bad is it? Stop beating around the bush just tell me.”

All of the people above me looked between each other before the medic spoke,

“Your knee is dislocated, you’ve got some deep lacerations and stud marks in your shins and a piece of your tibia is sticking out of one of them. You are bleeding a lot, we need to get you off the field and to hospital, take the green whistle and we’ll get you off the field as soon as possible.”

Those words hurt, a lot, more than the injury itself. I nodded to the medic, I wasn’t walking off the field with that list of injuries, I was surprised I was still conscious with that comprise of injuries.

“Baby, just take the pain meds, you're in enough pain.”

Lucy’s voice, her convincing was probably the only thing that made me nod my head and let them pass me the inhaler. I got straight to inhaling it, and within the first ten or so inhalation I felt the pain relief start to kick in. It was good, it made me feel almost ten times better. Lucy was there the whole time, whispering sweet nothings into my ear as they medic attended to my legs and Sarina wrapped a blanket around my shivering upper half.

It was about five minutes before I was floating on a pain free drug induced cloud. When that happened they started to transfer me to the stretcher, with the help of Sarina, Lucy, Millie, Leah and the two medics. It was a touchy process, they were very clearly trying to keep the movement of my leg limited. The actual movement of getting me onto the stretcher had me screaming, pain relief or not it hurt insanely and I knew at that moment that my World Cup dreams were pretty much over. I cried the whole way to the ambulance. Lucy and my teammates had to desert me once I made it over to the sideline so they could finish off the game, eventually, along the way I passed out from the mixture of drugs and blood loss, something I was grateful for.

When I started to stir I had a headache but I felt warm. It took me a few seconds before I cracked my eyes, it was dark outside, my room was dark. But not so dark that I couldn’t make out everything around me, the lights from the hallway and machines giving me a steady source of light. The first thing that I saw was that a big percentage of the Lionesses were piled into the room, Georgia, Leah and Keira and piled onto a pull out sofa, Rachel, Millie and Mary sharing the spare cot beside me and a few of the other girls scattered in seats across the room. It was cute, looking at all of my teammates who were clearly gassed from the game but still here. Sarina and Lucy were slumped in the seats immediately to my side. Just as I let my eyes float over to Lucy her own blueish eyes tiredly connecting with my own. A tight lipped smile made its way to her mouth as she acknowledged me.

“Hey baby.”

Her voice was hushed, it was clear she was trying her hardest not to awaken any of our teammates. As she blinked away the sleep she slipped her glasses over her face, locking her eyes properly with me once the frames were slipped over her eyes. Her voice was enough to put more tears in my eyes, I was pretty sure I’d cried enough tears for about six people.

She stood up quietly, letting her hand fall to my face, gently rubbing a circle against my cheek. It was enough to have my lip trembling and my eyes darting across the room. Before I knew it I was a pleading staggering mess.

“Why me? Why now?”

Lucy’s facial expression just broke into a frown and I could feel her worrying from a few centimetres away from me. Before she said anything she pressed her lips to my forehead. I sobbed into her, not really worried about waking up any of our companions.

“I know sweetheart, I know, it’s okay, I’m going to be here for you every step of the way.”

My breaths came out in hiccups and the hospital gown I was in clung to my body with the sweat that I was producing from working myself up.

“How bad is it, did we win?”

My words came out in pieces, it sounded like my Spanish, which was very rough and not very consistent.

“No, but don’t worry about that. They relocated your knee, you had to have surgery on your leg but it’s just a metal plate and some stitches for the lacerations from Carpenter’s boot.”

I honestly felt bad for the Australian defender, she’d had it bad enough with the press for the last while, let alone getting someone else’s blood all over their cleats.

“So my world cup dream is over.”

Lucy let the words hang in the air for a few seconds, it solidified the words in the room.

“Hey, not necessarily. The doctor said that the surgery went really well, that the fracture was pretty minor and that he expects a speedy recovery. You could be back running in 4-6 weeks.”

Even Lucy didn’t sound that optimistic, it was clear she was trying her hardest but she was struggling.

“My fitness will be shot, 4-6 weeks off the pitch pre world cup practically guarantees my spot gone, even if I’m running, in what world would Sarina take the chance of putting me on the pitch.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed, it was hard to catch in the dim light but I managed to with my eyes adjusting to the darkness.

“I won’t have anyone putting my girl down, especially not you. You will be fine. I can’t promise you that you will make it back on the pitch, you will make it to Australia, if it’s the right fit. Maybe it won’t be, maybe that’s fate and I know that’s shit to accept, shit to get the short straw and I am so sorry that you are in that position. If I could switch with you I would. I would do anything for you and you know that, I’ll be here for you everyday, I will give up anything to make this easier for you, I can promise you that. I can promise that I’m here to be whatever you need. You need a shoulder to cry on? I’ve got two. You need someone to listen? I’ve got two working ears and great advice if you want it. You need someone to just be here for you? I will sit with you for as long as you need.”

Lucy’s words hit home for me. She had always been willing to do anything for me, she’d walk to the ends of the earth to do anything for me, she’d made that clear from when we’d first met. I’d been apprehensive from the beginning but she’d fought and fought until I’d given into her and when I had I’d fallen head over heels in love with the woman.

I moved myself over in the bed and patted down next to the space I’d left open beside me. Luc seemed apprehensive to begin with, her eyes darting between my leg and my eyes.

“Please, I just want my girlfriend to hug me, can I have that?”

Lucy bit her lip, she was clearly a little bit nervous about the idea but her slumped shoulders and tired eyes were enough to tell me that she was tired and just as needy as I was. Neither of us slept well without the other, on the rare occasion that we were separated we both struggled with the loss of contact.

“I’m not sure y/n/n, I don’t want to hurt your leg.”

She was so cute when she was nervous, her voice a nervous murmur. I put her worry to rest fairly quickly though, the pain meds were running through my veins and I was equally as tired.

“Luce, my bad leg is on the other side, I just need some contact, I need to feel loved and comfortable and this hospital bed is making that hard, so please, just hug your girlfriend.”

Lucy sighed and nodded at me, she couldn’t deny me, ever, I had her wrapped around my little finger.

“Alright, how about I slide behind you and you can rest against me?”

It took a little bit of push and shove and some wincing and pain on my side but eventually we got Lucy situated behind me, up against the pillows. I was resting comfortably against her chest and stomach, my head resting in her neck. It was everything I’d needed to make me feel a little bit better and once we’d both gotten settled I smiled up at her gratefully. She pressed her lips to my forehead, I swore that I could feel the compassion behind it but maybe that was the morphine speaking.

“I love you.”

She’d smiled down in that goofy way that she did when I gave her a compliment. Lucy was a goofball, it was one of the things that I loved about her. She was always laughing and making people around her laugh, she was just full of good energy and it made me a better person.

“I love you too, my love, always, get some rest. It’s all going to be okay.”

#woso #lionesses #leah williamson #marry me rn #woso community #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #millie bright #sarina wiegman #lionesses x reader #injury #i love some hurt/comfort #little bit sad #we love a supportive girlfriend

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pissylittlebirdboy · 21 days

Note

And don't think I forgot. Unluckily for you, I never forget.

believe me, I know. thanks for the fly swarm nightmares for the past few weeks, though. really loving the five hours of sleep a week in addition to the broken knee. thanks to mikey for that one.

I need to go destroy things. fuck fuck fuck FUCK FUC

#the fly claw deal #theprinceulysses #prince ulysses #theprincespeaks #u.f.d.#the adventures of maai #good omens rp #crownedcorrespondance #🦚🗡️🩸

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mariacrow · 10 months

Note

How about a (bayverse)transformers x reader that is from our universe? Like we somehow got into the movies which means we know everything, who dies,when they die, who to trust ect. so that would mean that we can save bots that are going to get killed yk?(jazz my baby🥺🥺) okay so if you have no clue how to write it, you dont have to!!!

I totally get you! It’s like an AU I have myself :) My brain simply CANNOT comprehend that they’re dead. What if, to add a little more spice, we’re actually a Witwicky or better yet Sam’s sibling! I’ll leave that to your imagination ;) and I know exactly how to write this piece ;)

AU where Jazz, Ironhide and Ratchet are saved by Y/N!

2nd person

female reader

takes place in Transformers (2007)

takes place in Transformers: Dark of the Moon (2011)

takes place in Transformers: Age of Extinction (2014)

battle, injuries, reassurance, swearing, flirting…

JAZZ lives!

“YOU WANT A PIECE OF ME!? YOU WANT A PIECE!?” blasting Megatron’s legs, Jazz was angrily shouting while you were watching, standing on top the same building Megatron was on along with Jazz in his claws.

“No! I want two!” Megatron yelled angrily.

“Hey! Hey big guy! Megs!” you yelled as loudly as you could so Megatron could hear you. Your plan was to distract him. “Megatron!!!”

Just when he was about to rip Jazz in two pieces, he turned around because he heard you. Jazz took that opportunity immediately and blasted him in the face. Megatron groaned in pain and irritation as his grip on Jazz went loose.

“You ain’t that smart after all, you pile of rust!” Jazz mocked him as he got out of his grasp and jumped towards you.

Megatron quickly turned around and aimed at you both while groaning in indescribable anger. Jazz grabbed you and jumped off the building while Megatron was trying to blast you both.

“Hold on tight, baby girl!” not the best time for flirting.

Jazz transformed into his BMW and secured you in the driver’s seat with a seatbelt, driving down the building, vertically.

“WOOOAH! JAZZ WATCH OOOUT!”

Inching from the ground, he partially transformed to safely push himself onto the ground. He did scratch his bumper though.

“Aw man! Not the bumper!”

He was speeding through the streets, drifting and sliding like the pro he is. You could barely comprehend what just happened.

“Quite of a bumpy ride, huh~?” he said kinda seductively.

“Jazz, you’re insane.” you said, chuckling.

“You saved my life out there, kid, you know that?”

“Hey, what are friends for?”

“Yeah.” he chuckled, “ “Friends~” “

🩶

IRONHIDE lives!

“For the sake of our survival, a deal had to be made… With Megatron.” Sentinel said as he repeated his gun.

Your eyes widened. Your heart skipped a beat as a heavy wave of adrenaline struck your body. The gun you were holding felt heavier than ever.

“IRONHIDE, WATCH OUT!!!” you shouted and started shooting at Sentinel’s face, aiming for his optics. You made him groan as his aim on Ironhide became wonky.

Ironhide turned around in time and got his weapons out. Sentinel managed to blast his arm off. It made Ironhide groan and lose balance, falling onto his knee as he was trying to shoot Sentinel with his other arm but the pain was keeping him away from being precise.

“NOOO!” you panicked because of Ironhide, seeing he’s badly injured.

“TRAITOROUS PUNK!” Ironhide cussed.

“GET BACK!!!” Lennox yelled.

Bumblebee reacted quickly, the fight was on. Sentinel managed to blast the base, sparkles and heat were all over the place, you could barely see anything. The sharp pieces of metal were flying everywhere which got you injured. Your arm was badly hurt which made you drop your gun and yelp.

Suddenly you could feel a huge, strong metal hand grab you and pull you back. Clinking of Ironhide’s transformation surrounded you and you soon found yourself inside of the black RAM.

He floored it along with Bee. You could hear him groan. His turning was wonky, he was barely driving.

“We need to find Ratchet, ASAP!”

“I don’t need no medic!” you could hear pain in his voice.

“Ironhide, it is not the time for your stubbornness! Please! That grandpa blasted your whole arm off!”

He angrily drifted into an alley and transformed back. You flew out and hit the ground as he slid down the wall, sitting down, holding his leaking shoulder.

You bravely got up and climbed on his leg, taking a better look at him.

“Ironhide, please…” you looked at him with pleading eyes, “This is serious and I don’t know how to fix it…”

Seeing you almost cry because of him made his spark ache. The fact you worry so much about him made it even harder for him to suppress his feelings…

“Fine… Call Ratchet…” he huffed, his ego kinda hurting.

And so you did. He was on his way. You were praying he arrives safely.

Ironhide picked you up and placed you on his other shoulder, gently keeping his servo around you. You smiled and leaned against his helm, giving him a hug. Funny how you both got your left arms injured. Twins!!!

“It’s gonna be alright… I promise…”

“Well I ain’t dying yet.” he chuckled through the pain, “I didn’t even get to take you out.”

He made you chuckle, “Well then. What are you doing tomorrow?”

You both had a good laugh as Ratchet’s sirens were approaching.

Ironhide was saved.

🩶

RATCHET lives!

Ratchet and you were hiding on that abandoned boat for a long time. It was quite difficult for survival but you had him and he had you. He has great survival skills, he taught you a lot.

The night they went hunting for you both almost meant the end. Thankfully you were there with him to react on time. You weren’t sleeping, you were guarding the hiding spot.

It was a peaceful night with a clear sky. You furrowed you eyebrows once the silence was ruined by helicopters in the distance. They were getting closer, you saw them as well as bunch of cars on the dirt road. Your eyes widened as you ran to Ratchet.

“Ratchet! Ratchet, wake up! We need to go, now! They’re coming for us!!”

“Are you sure, Y/N?”

“Yes! I saw them in the distance! Come on, hurry!” you said while quickly packing everything you had, picking up your bag and running out with him. He had a bad feeling about this but he trusted you nonetheless.

The boat got blasted from far away, you didn’t even see who did it. All you knew is that it made you jump off the boat. Ratchet grabbed you mid air and transformed into the ambulance vehicle. You found yourself tumbling inside as he got onto the ground and floored it.

Someone kept blasting you from far away. It was Lockdown tracking you but you had no clue.

“Someone is tracking us! We need to lose them!”

“I know where to go. I suggest you hold on tight! Safety first!” he’s so wholesome.

Suddenly, Ratchet’s tire got blasted. Both of you almost went flying.

“Primus!” Ratchet exclaimed and groaned.

“WOAH!” you bounced inside, securing yourself with a seatbelt, “Your tire is gone!”

Nevertheless, he kept driving with no back tire. You kept being chased by enormously strong blasts until you lost whoever was trying to kill you.

“Whatever was trying to kill us… it isn’t human. I don’t think we have such artillery… and it wasn’t coming from the sky for sure.”

“Humans have made an alliance with the Deceptacons. They won’t stop until they butcher us all!” he said with emotional pain in his voice while driving deep into the countryside, going for an abandoned junkyard.

You sat there, resting. Ratchet seemed hopeless until he spoke.

“Optimus will come back. I know he will. All of this isn’t for nothing…”

You looked up at him and smiled, standing up.

“I’ll go find a spare tire.”

You made him smile, “Thank you. You’re a sweetheart…”

That night you saved the medic’s life without even knowing how butchered he could’ve been by Savoy, Lockdown and KSI…

Dividers belong to @saradika 🩶

#transformers #autobots #deceptacons #transformers bayverse #ironhide #ratchet #jazz #transformers ratchet #transformers jazz #transformers ironhide #bayverse ratchet #bayverse ironhide #transformers x reader #x reader #ironhide x reader #ratchet x reader #alternative universe #transformers fanfiction #x y/n

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thelov3lybookworm · 9 months

Text

I Didn't Ask For This (part three)

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Marriage had always been something sacred to little Y/n, something dream like, where her husband would come and whisk her away to a fairyland. At least, that's what she had always thought.

All her dreams would be shattered.

But maybe she can salvage them?

•○●⛦●○•

Tw: forced marriage, azzie being and asshole(obviously, hes been forced), suicidal thoughts, none more that I can think of, so let me know if I need to add anything.

A/n: I wanna cry.

•○🌑○•

The ceremony passed without a tantrum from Y/n's father and anyone dying, which was more than she could ask for.

But then the priestess asked the two of them to kiss.

Both of their necks turned so fast it was been a miracle that they didn't break it.

Throughout the whole ceremony, Azriel and Y/n had either been staring at each other stonily, or the wall behind the other. And now they had to... Y/n wanted to gag.

"Can we not skip that part?" Azriel asked in a dangerously low voice.

Before the priestess could answer though, the High Lord cut in. "Azriel. It's not that big of a deal. She hasn't asked you to kill Miss Y/n here."

Azriel's eyes slowly travelled to the Lord before going back to his new wife. "That would've been preferable."

Y/n's heart clenched. Why did he hate her so, knowing she had no say in the matter?

He then stepped forward, their lips barely touching before he pulled away and walked off the makeshift dais. Y/n was left standing there, a knot forming in her throat.

If he was already treating her like this, she couldn't even fathom what would happen when they were alone. Would he hit her? No. That was taking things too far. Azriel had been a very nice albeit quiet boy back when they met. He wouldn't do that to a female.

Unless the Illyrians he grew up with tainted his mind.

She chided herself silently for thinking of such disgusting things. Whatever would happen, she would have to endure it. Thinking of it would not help her.

The High Lord declared that they were going home, and then gently told Y/n to say her goodbyes to her family and that he would be waiting for her outside the room to escort her to her new home.

She turned to Velda and Alexander, ignoring her father who stood a few feet away. They hugged her with sad smiles, and then she walked away.

She could practically feel the anger emanating from her father, but what could he do? What could be worse than forcing her to marry someone? Killing her? That wasn't bad. She would be grateful for that. The peace and darkness of death was far better than living in anguish and sadness, knowing the person you were bound to would rather you not exist.

As promised, the High Lord was waiting with his wife and son outside. He extended his hand to her, which she reluctantly took before darkness engulfed them.

The next moment, they were standing outside the gate of a elegant and beautiful house nearby a river.

"This is the River House. This is where we live, though Azriel and Cassian prefer the House of Wind." The High Lord said, pointing to the majestic and magnificent palace like structure in the distance, built directly into the mountain. She dipped her head in a nod. "He will fly you there."

That's when she realised that someone was standing in the shadows nearby. Azriel.

"Thank you, my Lord."

He shook his head. "Call me Rhys please. You're part of the family now."

Y/n didn't deign to respond, looking up at the House of Wind.

Then her husband stepped forward, sweeping her of her feet without warning and leaping into the air, his wings carrying them higher. She had to smother the scream clawing up her throat at the abruptness of all this.

The ride went in silence, with Y/n staring at the city below them in awe after her initial fright, occasionally stealing glances at Azriel. His face was set in stone, his eyes icy. He ignored her the whole time, staring straight at their destination.

Soon, they landed on a balcony, and he put her down, quite rashly, as if she burned him. Then, turning away from her, he took off towards the sky and then vanished around the top of the mountain.

Y/n stared after him sadly, hoping he would come around. That she wouldn't have to spend her life watching him hate her.

Footsteps sounded behind her, making her turn. The General and his mate were standing on the other side of the glass doors separating them. The General smiled and opened the door, waving her inside. She tentatively took a step forward, then another and another.

"Where is Azriel?" He asked. Y/n shook her head. He exchanged a glance with his mate before beaming at her. "That's alright. I can show you to his chambers so you can change and rest. Your siblings had packed a bag for you when they came Under the Mountain. The bag is in his room."

She just nodded, not having the energy to even utter a word of thanks, following them as they led her through the winding halls and corridors. Then they stopped in front of a door, turning back to her.

"Here we are. Our Chambers are nearby, if you need anything, please feel free to ask us." He said, pointing to a door a little ways down. This time, Y/n opened her mouth to speak, but before she could, the door to Azriel's room swung open, making her gasp. The General laughed. "Oh, that is the house. It's... magical. You can also just ask the house to get you whatever you need."

"Th–thank you, my Lord."

"Hey, call me Cass please."

She gave a tiny dip of her head and the couple walked away. She stepped into the huge room, wondering how one person could take up so much space. The room was as big as half of her fathers house.

As she took a walk around the chamber, she tried to stop thinking about anything, knowing any and every thought would lead to what had happened today, and she was not ready for that. Because, even though she had cried her heart out to her siblings, there was still a weight on her chest that would, probably, never go away.

•○🌑○•

It had been a almost two hours since Y/n's arrival when Azriel entered his chambers. He froze on the doorstep, staring at Y/n, who had been sitting in an armchair, not sure if she should go to sleep. She leapt up, awkwardly fidgeting with her fingers.

She knew he didn't really like her, and she didn't want to sleep in his bed without asking for his permission first. And that wasn't the only reason. Because, despite her attempts at trying not to think of the wedding, she failed. And now she just wanted to talk to him.

Her husband.

The shock in his eyes quickly transformed to rage as he stepped forward and the door clicked shut behind him. He stalked towards Y/n, fury rippling off him in waves, shadows whipping around him and wings flaring. As he came to a halt in front of her, she had to crane her neck to look at him and it took all of her willpower to not run away from him.

"Azriel–"

"Get out." He cut her off, his voice dangerously low. Her body locked up for a few moments before she found her voice.

"Wh–what do you mean? Where am I supposed to–"

"I don't care. Go wherever you want. Jump off a balcony. I. Do. Not. Care." He paused for a moment to make sure she understood. "You will not enter my chambers without my permission, which I'll never give. We are not husband and wife, no matter what you say or do, I'll forever hate you and the two of us are never meant to be more."

Tears pricked her eyes, but Y/n swallowed them down. "But–"

"GET OUT!" Y/n flinched, startled by his sudden yelling before he lowered his voice, again deadly calm. "Get. Out."

He turned away, the dismissal clear. So she turned and left, the door swinging shut behind her. Tears flowed down her cheeks, but she furiously wiped them away, embarrassed that she had started to cry.

It was not the fact the Azriel kicked her out or yelled at her. No, that she was used to. Her father knew no other way to communicate.

But what hurt was the fact that the person she was hoping to have a life with, the person who she thought would atleast consider being together, he had done that to her. And in the process, trampled all over her hopes and dreams.

The promise she'd made to Velda didn't seem so easy to fulfil now.

She started walking, but didn't know where she was going. She could have gone to the General, but she didn't want to disturb the couple. And she doubted it would help her situation, because her husband was sure to hate her more if she went around complaining to his family.

So she walked until a door opened next to her. Remembering that the house was magical, she peered inside. It was a sitting room, where a tray laden with a delicious looking and steaming dinner sat on the table. Her stomach rumbled as she stared at it.

"Is that for me?" She asked hesitantly, feeling foolish for talking to a house.

In response, the door opened wider. Deciding she was too hungry to care, she sat down to eat, the door shutting behind her.

After she was done, she reclined on the comfortable couch. The door opened, as if trying to lead her somewhere else, but she shook her head and turned on her side. A few moments later, a blanket appeared, magically tucking itself around her, and she smiled. A true smile, a grateful one.

A tear slipped from her eye, and then one from the other eye, trailing over her nose and onto the couch.

Maybe this was going to be her life, being kicked and thrown around by people, being wanted by no one.

Unwanted.

Unloved.

A burden for everyone.

She didn't want that, but then again, when did life care about what she wanted? What choice did she have?

Atleast the house cared enough to provide her with a blanket.

Her eyes landing on the balcony in the room, she wondered what would happen if she did what Azriel had suggested, her eyes fluttering shut.

If anyone would even care to search for her.

If anyone would even look for her body.

If they would care to wonder about the blood splattered on the ground below.

•○🌑○•

Taglist: @bubybubsters @maxxieluvs @bubbbllee @buckyandgeraltsupremacy @waytoomanyteenagefeels @tell-me-a-poem @the-lake-is-calling @spaxxxi @japanese-wonderland-blog @valeridarkness @moonlwghts @deadratio @esposadomd @harrystylesfan2686 @whatthefuckshappeningrn @missusbarnes-rogers @hyacinthoideshispanica @historygeekqueen @lizziesfirstwife

Soo many people 🥹. I can't tag ones stricken through I'm soo sorry!

Part 4

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hype-blue-fixation · 2 months

Text

Pt 2/2 | The Purest Kind of Entertainment | SFW Tickle Fic [RadioRose QPR]

If you'd like some extra context, here's part one. Otherwise enjoy!

A soft knock brought a certain woman to the door. “Oh, hello Alastor! What are you doing here at this unsatanly hour?” Rosie chimed. Before he could say anything, she already grabbed his shoulders and tossed him inside her emporium. Whipping him around like a ragdoll and all he could do was smile. Genuinely smile.

“To put things simply, I may be in need of your services.”

“You already know anything in the 9 rings is yours if I can help it, darlin’!”

They took a seat in her tea room, where he marveled at all her decorations and boxes of goodies. She handed him a box of fingers. At first refusing, but then deciding that a little snack might help with nerves. “So, there’s this silly thing someone said today. It doesn’t really bother me all too much, but it did make me wonder. With you being the best and most dangerous matchmaker in all of Hell, what are ways you’ve seen demons show deep affection for each other?”

Rosie almost looked surprised. “Did someone finally catch your fancy?” “None whatsoever. This is purely for the sake of deals and appeals, my dear.”

In her many hundred years of being a hellborn overlord, Rosie learned how to read anyone. Especially her intimate friend. She already knew not to suggest anything remotely related to sex or kissing, and that cuddles were something he’d only recently come to terms with “tolerating” exclusively with her. To break the silence of her thinking, she suggested the obvious: licking faces, love bites, clawing into each other’s flesh.

“I’m well aware of the ways that cannibals show affection. That would never fly outside your lovely little community…or the twisted kinky minds that deserve to be double dead.” Alastor commented.

“Of course, of course.” Rosie chuckled, lost halfway in thought. She proceeded to rattle off other things, such as songs, poetry, and art designed for your loved one. A thoughtful gift, a night out, a nice dance, playing a good ole fashioned board game in candlelight. Her strategies were endless, and some even piqued his interest.

Having the sense that she was trying to only feed him ideas that he liked, a playful twist came to his smile. “That’s all fine and well, but what about the other ideas you’ve got?”

“The others?”

“The ones you assume I wouldn’t like.”

Rosie hummed. “Kisses, nude cuddling, bondage, se–”

“You’d be quite right.”

They both laughed. The sweet sound gave her a thought. “What about tickles?”

“Pardon?”

“Tickles! It’s one of those strange things I’m not sure if you’d like.”

Alastor blinked and cocked his head sideways. At the very least, it was something he never considered as a way to enjoy or deepen a relationship. His only experiences were as a young child when his mother played games like 3 little pigs on his toes and Noah’s Ark on his arms. Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to try.

“I will see if I like that one.” he said plainly, as if he were signing up for a science experiment. Rosie’s eyebrow raised curiously, but she wouldn’t deny him the request or pass up an opportunity to teach an old demon new tricks.

A puff of magic removed his jacket and hung it neatly in the closet. She gently guided his hands to the back of his head so that his only defense was a dress shirt and suspender straps. Her hands floated at his sides. He fearlessly looked her in the eyes, almost daring her to do something. And something she did.

Her claws dug into his side, ripping out a loud scream of staticy surprise. She immediately pulled back to observe him bent forward. Expecting another attack. He kept his hands on his head suggesting he was still curious about whatever this was. Again her nails dug into his sides, there to stay. At first he couldn’t even get a laugh out, only quick deep gasps. His voice gradually found a way to be heard in each gasp, taking on the form of laughter. He managed to barely keep his hands on his head. Eyes shot wide. “God! Stop! Stop!” He forced the begs to fit into each breath.

Rosie’s claws gently rested on his sides to give him a break. His heart was pounding and small giggles trailed out in the aftermath. “You do know you could have stopped me at any point, right?” Rosie leaned in, and he suddenly remembered that he could put his arms down. “Do you like that?”

Alastor fought to gain his composure, which only resulted in a cocky smile. “It’s definitely a tool I can use.”

Rosie chuckled and slowly spidered her hands toward his armpits. He froze in complete anticipation. Wondering what she’d do next. “Tickling can be a fun activity for you and your loved ones. I can go into the chemistry of it, if you like. But it can also be a tool for power.”

He looked up into her void eyes. Deeply invested in every word. Until her fingers suddenly wiggled into his armpits and his entire body seized up. Arms pressed to his sides, lower body twisted into an unnatural shape. Joy in his smile but genuine fear in his eyes as he realized his body’s inability to move or fight back. The magic of her hands put him into a state of powerless paralysis. He barely managed to force himself to breathe, which brought along little giggles with it. Rosie’s smile widened to show she was enjoying this, perhaps a bit too much.

Her face came dangerously close to his. “Do you feel scared?” she asked in a teasing tone.

“Ha! N– No!” a stream of airy laughter kept his reply quiet.

But she knew better than that. He was terrified. Excited. Enjoying the experience. But enough was enough without a break. She slipped her hands out and he immediately hugged her. Pulling her so close to his body that it was a flesh prison. He softly giggled in her ear as he recovered from the intense moment. “Don’t do…that…again…” he said between laughs, but they both knew he didn’t mean it.

She pouted and pulled back to look at his red face. “But you liked it! And you were so so so cute!” she cupped his cheeks in her hands.

He rolled his eyes and took one last deep sigh. “Just because you’re not anyone else, I’ll be square. I…I like it.”

“What do you like about it?” Rosie seemed pleasantly surprised and curious.

“Just promise you’ll keep quiet about what I’m going to tell you or I’ll destroy the entire town.”

“As you should.” Rosie seemed entirely unfazed by his threat.

He slowly calmed down, now feeling calm and at ease. All the tension disappeared, replaced only with peaceful and fuzzy thoughts about his lady friend. How lucky he was to have someone like her in spite of every awful thing he was. “Aside from being a fun and relaxing activity, I quite liked being able to be vulnerable and still feel…safe. You’re the only person I’ve felt that way with.”

Rosie leaned in with kissy lips. “Is this a love confession? From the great Radio Demon?”

“Sure, if it can be a pla…platon…p…friendly kind of love.”

“The term you’re looking for is ‘platonic,’ dear.”

“Yes, tha– AT!” His voice peaked as she gave him a swift surprise tickle.

The two stared as if they expected the other person to make a move first. Rosie chuckled, a playfully sinister kind of sound. “Speaking of vulnerable, you love being afraid of me and what I can do to you, don’t you?”

Alastor had to really take on a moment of introspection. His pride screamed at him to bicker and resist. But the softened depth of his heart spoke openly. “Only because it’s you, Rose.” he said. And just to appease the ego, he added, “But remember, I can stop you any time I like. You only have power because I choose to give it to you.”

Rosie could say nothing against that. Whatever they had, something beyond normal friendship but not in the realm of the romantic, was something they didn’t truly understand. But they were glad to have it. They were both happy, relaxed, and emotionally closer in the moment. The voices of guilt in Alastor’s head were finally put to rest behind his smile, right where they belonged.

#sfw tickling community #lee!alastor #radiorose #ler!Rosie #hazbin hotel #Queerplatonic #qpp #fanfic #asexual #fic with plot #My writing

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tacticaldiary · 10 months

Text

Where One Goes, The Other Follows

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Angst.

Note: Mentions of attempted suicide. Death on a mission

"You said we'd get out of this, remember? You promised."

She feels him shake his head minutely, a movement she might have missed if not for how close she was pressed against him. "Promised you'd...get out."

A/N: I don't feel great, so you get to not feel great with me! You're welcome!

Masterlist

It hurts.

Everything aches, a deep-seated anguish pulsing through her entire body. Like a shot to heart...no, a shot to the heart would have been quicker than this. Painless. Instant.

Merciful.

She chokes on shallow breaths as blood pools between the shaky hands pressed to the middle of her abdomen. Crimson gurgles up in her throat, so metallic she can almost make herself relax with the familiarity of it.

A simple mission, they had told her. A simple in and out, no clearance to engage. Keep it clean and quiet. When Price had handed her the packet of information, Ghost already flipping through a similar one, she'd joked about it being a vacation from the gruelling environments the team is usually forced to tough out.

It was supposed to be easy.

So why does she have a bullet lodged in her stomach? Why did they pick up the intel in a suspiciously empty warehouse, only to be ambushed by a few dozen Russian soldiers laying in wait? Their intel was rotten, she grits her teeth at the thought.

Pinned behind a metal container, the roar of gunfire crescendos over her ears. Pressed thigh to thigh, she feels hopelessness claw at her when Ghost makes a frustrated sound at the empty clicking of his last pistol.

Nothing. They had nothing but the slowing beat of their hearts and the uncertainty of their lives.

Despite the situation, she laughs. A tortured, humourless, choked sound as her head hits the metal behind her. One soldier injured, the other soon to be ripped apart by dozen. What a way to go out.

Ghost glances at her, eyes a little too wide under his mask.

It was funny. Everything was a little funny under the prospect of dying right now.

"Keep pressure on that." He orders when her hands slip. "They don't know we're out of ammo." Patting down his vest for a second, he unclips a grenade. The last one there, a last resort. You didn't throw a grenade like that in a close quartered environment unless it was a last resort.

"We'll make a run for the shutter on the left once this goes off, yeah?" He says, eyebrows knitting together in what's blatant concern when she doesn't respond. "Copy, Sergeant?" He says sharply, moving to shake her shoulder.

"I can't move, Simon." Comes a soft reply, the resigned tone sends chills down his spine. "I'll stay here and distract them. You take the shutter. Gotta get this intel to Price."

"Negative." he barks, shifting into position. "We move as I planned. Evac is just beyond those doors in the field. They won't follow us there, not enough cover against heavy fire."

For a moment she comes back to herself. Did he not hear her? "I can't...Simon I can't move-"

"Heard you the first time, love." That's all he says before pulling the pin out and tossing the object. There are a couple of clinks as it rolls, then the shouts and yells of their enemies as they recognise the threat. "I'm gonna get you out of here."

Hope dwindles, like the last rays of light before the sunset. There was no getting her out of here. She knows that. Dead weight is tough to deal with, useless in their line of work.

"Promise?" She breathes out roughly, a joke for a dying soldier.

The conviction he meets her eyes with, fierce and determined makes even her dark thoughts halt in their tracks. "I promise."

She closes her eyes, braces for the loud noise and flying shrapnel, only to be yanked to her feet and thrown over a broad shoulder. The movement makes pain wash across her body, enough to make black dot her vision, but she gets her bearings and clutches onto the back of his vest anyway, letting him do as he pleases.

The explosion sounds, ringing in their ears and Simon takes off instantly. Ducking behind containers, he almost makes it to the exit before shots start firing again.

He grunts, jolts more than a few times before he reaches the shutters, slipping out and slamming them shut behind him.

The metal and concrete is scraped from her vision, replaced with a green field and the sound of a chopper's blades whirring. Wind blows against her hair and for a moment it seems surreal.

She thought she was going to die. A shuddering gasp makes its way through her as they stop midway through the field. Simon moves to set her down gently-

And sways.

"Simon-?" She starts to ask, halfway to the ground. Eyebrows furrowed in intense concentration, she can't help but notice the way his mask is damp from sweat...his clothes too, and surely that much of a run wouldn't have been enough to wear him out. She's so making fun of him the moment she can suck in a full breath if that's the case, and-

Simon buckles to the ground, taking her with him. She lands on top of him, pulling a strangled groan out of the man. "Shit, are you...you okay?" She pants, clutching a hand to her wound before sitting up on her knees next to him.

Her entire front is covered in more blood that it had been before, and that's odd because...oh.

His front is stained with enough blood to make his previously green vest the colour of wine.

The sight stuns her, knocks the breath out of her because...what?

"Hey, you-Simon you're bleeding." She gasps, abandoning her own woes to take a better look at him. Blinking away the sluggish dizziness from her own blood loss, she carefully tears off his vest and-

His torso is riddled with bullet holes.

Too many to count. All of them bubbling and bleeding, pouring out liquid that should be inside him because he needs that, it's important and he's going to bleed out if this keeps going...

Hands hovering over his chest, they move from injury to injury, not knowing which one to press down on. For each one there were three more, and the fight against the rising panic and bile rising in her is getting tougher and tougher by the second.

"Made it out, at least." He breathes, shallow and raspy.

"You-you're bleeding." Is all she can manage to say, voice shaky.

In shock.

"I noticed." His humour isn't appreciated.

"I'm sorry." She chokes out. "I didn't...you got shot because I-"

"Oi." He grits out. A shaky, trembling hand moves to cup her jaw and despite the state he's in the touch is grounding and as rough as ever. "None of...that."

"You can't die." She encases his palm with her own, keeps it pressed there uncaring of the blood slicking her face. "You can't. Simon, you-it's okay. It's going to be okay." A sob rips its way out of her, though she tries to choke the rest back.

"Can't...can't kill someone who's already dead...love." He mumbles into her hair, blooding it with blood that he's coughing up way too fast to not be concerned about.

"Don't leave," She begs, hunched over him, clutching onto his gear. She wants it off, wants to rip it all off and feel his skin, press her hand against his chest, and make sure his heart never stops beating. "Don't leave me, Simon. I can't- I need you." With a scratchy voice, she pleads and begs, trying to keep him talking. "You promised, remember? You promised we'd get out."

She feels him shake his head minutely, a movement she might have missed if not for how close she was pressed against him. "Promised you'd...get out." He croaks, bleeding out but nevertheless the same strong, still presence as always.

Still...still?

Her breath chokes her, her entire body trembling as her grip on his shirt tightens. "Simon...?" She whispers. No answer.

A sob rips out of her, raw and painful because this wasn't real. It was a dream. There was no other explanation.

She'd wake up in her room, head pillowed on his chest and pretending to still be asleep just to have a few more minutes of his warmth. Simon would chuckle, she'd feel the motion under her skin, and he'd prod at her side, line kisses against her forehead until a smile broke free and her ruse was up.

They'd be happy.

She'd be happy.

Her face stays pressed against him, her grip iron. She doesn't pull away, letting the primal fear and grief mix with the senseless hope that maybe he was still alive. She hadn't confirmed it. Hadn't peeked up to see it, so maybe he was still there, waiting for her. Like he said he always would.

Hours, days, maybe minutes? A period of time later footsteps thunder behind her. Shrouded in delirium and grief, she's still a soldier, and her instincts kick in.

Protect, protect, protect.

It's a mantra in her head as she curls over him, unwilling to let them take him away from her.

People surround them but her grip does not falter. Hands grab at her shoulder and someone's speaking, saying words, what...

"-go, you have to let go." The voice is...shaky?

Gaz?

Confused, she tilts her head up a centimeter to catch a glimpse of the person who has her. Gaz. It was Gaz. Looking exhausted, shaken but determined. His eyes flitter away from Ghost on the ground repeatedly.

"Gaz?" She asks, voice cracking. He nods, taking her confusion to his advantage and pulling her to her feet. When she makes a strangled sound and hunched over, he finally notes the wound on her abdomen and curses.

"We need a medic." He calls over his shoulder, pulling to sling her arm over his shoulder. "We've got you, exfil's here. You're gonna be alright now, yeah?"

"N-no." She shakes her head, fuzzy and full. "Not me, I-...Simon...Ghost, you have to help him he's..." A hacking cough cuts her off, sending sharp flares of pain all across her body. Gaz firmly keeps her head towards the front when she tries to look back. "What-...no, not me." A weak attempt at pulling away is made, "Simon, Gaz I need to help...Ghost." Mumbling to herself half incoherent, she finally bats his hand away and turns to cast a glance back.

Her steps falter into nothing when she sees her boyfriend.

The sliver of skin beneath his mask is a sickly pale, blood dripping out from under it. His balaclava is soaked in blood, a strange waterboarding technique to chart for the future, her delirious mind unhelpfully supplies.

It's the stillness that jarrs her, makes the reality finally sink in.

Simon was quiet, he was purposeful, he could lay looking through a sniper scope in one place for hours but he was never still.

This kind of stillness was one brought by the absence of the warmth of light.

Gaz is talking...is he? His mouth is moving that much she can see out of the corner of her eyes, but all she can hear is static as her mind clicks together a devastating picture, a scene that would haunt her for as long as she lives.

Dead.

She thinks she might throw up.

Simon. Ghost. Simon was dead.

They were supposed to be a pair. Unbreakable. Where one went, the other followed offering the silent reassurance that neither of them would ever be alone.

Where one went, the other followed.

She lunges against Gaz's hold, the strength in her battered form surprising the soldier enough to allow her to rip free and stumble over to her lover.

Shaky hands fumble around Simon's body, one of them grips his gloved one in her own tightly, God he was cold, how was he already cold? until cool metal meets her fingertips, slicked with their blood.

People call her name. One person...maybe five? It doesn't matter, nothing matters right now but the press of the barrel against her forehead.

There's no hesitation when she pulls the trigger.

But there's a distinct lack of blinding pain.

A stunned, heavy silence takes hold of the field. Slowly, guilt and dread and hate and self-loathing curling up in her gut, she peels her eyes open to see her team. Her family.

And if the cold corpse of her lover beside her wasn't already punishment enough, the devastated, broken, confused looks on theirs' definitely does.

Soap makes a strangled noise when she pulls the trigger again, her head full of cotton.

Click.

Oh.

That's right.

The chamber was empty, wasn't it?

Staring numbly at the gun, at the pistol that Simon had carried with him throughout his entire career, she doesn't fight the hands that grip at her, that pull her up.

Doesn't fight the way Simon's cold hand slips from hers. When the gun is gently pried from her iron grip.

Words fall upon deaf ears, a buzzing sound accompanying her glazed over expression as she stares at two soldiers dragging over a body bag towards him over Price's shoulder.

"It's alright, lass." Soap mumbles in her ear, and distinctly she notes the sheer of tears in his eyes out of the corner of his own. "We've got ya."

"He's..." She says faintly. Simon's head is zipped into the bag out of view. "Gone..."

And then she cries. No, crying is too lenient a word, for what leaves her is a sound reserved for a wounded animal, a sound that not even the most experienced interrogators could ever hope to coax out of her. She wails and cries, hoarse and raw because nothing about this was okay. Nothing was okay. Nothing would ever be okay again.

Because she was alive.

And her other half was dead.

And she was still alive.

Requests Are Open! Reblog, Like and Comment!

(1/08/2023)

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ghouljams · 10 months

Note

I want something to spook witch really bad to the point where Price finds her curled up in a corner and just fucking picks her up and holds her and soothes her. And she just melts into him and has a moment where she feels safe in his arms but then has to deal with the fact that that goes against everything she believes. I love this slow burn, I don’t want them to fuck I just want them to cuddle a little bit, or for price to just cup her face in his big hands and look into her eyes and realize he doesn’t even care about getting tethers in her, he just wants to be near her. I’m so normal about them.

I'm so normal about them and I absolutely haven't read this one hundred times just thinking about Price and Witch being soft with each other. Sorry to the anons that want them to fuck, I want them to be unendingly tender with each other.

I want Price to be so familiar with Witch and her workings that he can pluck out her herbs before she even asks for them. Price sitting at the kitchen table and watching her work because he loves seeing his Witch in her element. I want him to loop an arm around her shoulders without thinking when she sits down next to him. So that Witch never worries if she's being too clingy when she leans against his side and drapes her legs over his lap. I want them to look at each other and know that's their person. Anyway I love you here's some words from further in their relationship:

There aren't many things that scare you. Witchcraft sort of necessitates that you maintain a healthy respect for the things that should make you cry in terror. So when you do get scared, you're never quite sure how to handle it. You know the basics of the responses: fight, flight, freeze, fawn, it's the execution you're never sure of.

You're actually glad you don't have the sight when you feel it walk past you. The hair on the back of your neck stands up at the daunting pressure the creature exudes. Your eyes dart up as if it might be walking by undisguised. You step to the side, to let it pass, your hand flying to grip one of Price's tethers. The man that passes you is only slightly smaller than your first glance, his face covered with what you assume is Mal's work the way your perception slides off of it. You can feel the danger of him, the predatory sweep of his eyes, you feel like a hapless civilian in Jurassic park watching a t-res walk by you.

His head tilts curiously at you, his walk only paused to assess whatever danger your attention might hold. The tether buzzes warm and insistent against your hold, you drop it quickly when the creature's eyes move to see what you'd been gripping so tightly. You think that might have been a mistake, drawing attention to your magic when fae are around is always a mistake.

The teeth on this thing, you hardly need your hagstone to see them. The hungry aggression in its eyes is enough to let you glimpse the dangerous spines that run down its back, to feel the swing of its tail and hear the crack of its claws. You're pulled back against the familiar tobacco scent of Price as a voice asks,

"König? What's wrong?"

Price's arm wraps around your shoulders, and you turn into his grip, not proud of the way you hide from this monster. It doesn't matter, Price doesn't care if you hide, you know that. That's why you can turn your back to such an overpowering threat, and how you know with absolute surety that you're safe in Price's hold.

"So this is where you've been hiding," You can feel the suppressed growl in Price's chest where you press close, the feigned politeness.

"Price," The fae, König you suppose, greets. You don't know if the voice really fits the monster, that helps to soften some of your fear. "I know your shadow is in the city, I should have assumed you would be too."

"Just for business." Price tells him.

"Business," König sounds out the word, like he doesn't believe him, "what business?"

"Are you scaring people again?" The same voice from before, closer now, "Goddammit." The overpowering presence seems to rush out of the air, intimidation melting away to give room for something softer. Now it's Price's turn to tense. You turn your head to peak at the overgrown fae, and the woman chastising him. König seems much less scary when he's got his shoulders scrunched up and his head hung low.

#1fae1 #tf 1fae1 #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #captain price #oc: witch #john price x oc #captain price x oc #fae!Price #Witch immediately like: Oh wait I know that woman #This is your boyfriend??? The old god masquerading as a normal fae?#Price isn't scared of you König stop trying

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moonbaby26 · 3 months

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Title: Basement Negotiations

(Chapter 1 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Reader/(Y/N) type: cis female marine

Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader as primary. Smoker x Reader is in the past. And Kuzan/Aokiji x Reader is there a little too.

Chapter Warnings: nonconsensual, dubious consent, language, violence, biting, blood, unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving)

Chapter Synopsis: Imagine being an overly ambitious young marine under Tsuru’s command. You’ve just had a very public breakup with Smoker, and without knowing also caught the Heavenly Demon’s eye for quite a while now. But you may have finally crossed the line in interfering with the warlord’s business dealings. Either way, Doflamingo will make sure you get what you deserve.

Chapters: 1, 2

———————————————

“You aren’t listening!” Smoker barked back at you, those two cigars pinched between his now bared teeth.

Things had unraveled here so quickly. Just minutes ago you’d been calmly following him as he’d asked to have a private word in the courtyard here at Mariejois.

For three months the two of you had been apart on assignments in different seas, and almost nightly you’d imagined finally seeing him again. You’d envisioned sharing a bed once more and doing everything you knew you had both been waiting for.

But now Smoker’s expression was practically a snarl and it just snapped something deeper within you as that final straw broke.

All the weeks that it’d been hard to get him by transponder snail, you hadn’t even worried. He was busy. You were busy. And you’d finally made the rank of captain. That next crucial step towards your own dream of becoming a vice admiral someday. You’d been riding that emotional high, just anticipating getting to celebrate together with him.

But this man who you thought would share in your pride and accomplishments the most, looked you dead in the eyes and said you had an obsession. That your desire to so rapidly climb the ranks at the expense of all else was not healthy. You were going to crash and burn, and he would no longer be a party to that.

But he hadn’t wanted to do this over snail. He’d come all this way just to tell you that the two of you were over straight to your face.

And as hotheaded as the both of you could be, the resulting argument had escalated explosively to this.

His subordinate Tashigi had dashed out, tears almost in her eyes by then as she begged for the fight to stop. You considered her a friend, but even she wasn’t enough to reason with you then as you’d landed the first solid kick against his clenched jaw.

A haki infused strike that even a logia fruit user couldn’t dissipate away from. The sound of the connect had been audible through the courtyard as he reeled back.

“He thinks I’m weak!” You called out spitefully to Tashigi as you immediately followed up to invert your body with a dive and a handspring that let your legs wrap around Smoker’s neck next before he could fly away.

Every place your bodies touched, you coated with haki in order to keep a hold of him. He tried to grab your thighs, but you still completed the maneuver to set him off balance and pull him down to the ground instead.

You wouldn’t stop fighting now until you either drew first blood or pinned him as symbolic victory. Because it drove something in you absolutely livid to be thought of as physically less than any other marine.

What he framed as caring about you, you could now only see as him not believing in your strength and ability to outlast your peers.

He didn’t know what sacrifices you’d already made. How hard it had been to claw your way up even to this point. You had worked so doggedly to be here, and you would go even higher, with or without him.

You knew you could mitigate his abilities better in close quarters. But he did knock you back enough to finally turn to smoke and take to the air.

Besides your haki though, your other weapon of choice was the rope dart you now unwrapped from your shoulder. He wasn’t out of your range yet as you infused the dagger with more of your power and launched it at him in the air.

You sensed his frustration mounting as well, and you knew he was about to make a mistake. You saw it so clearly in your mind that you focused on nothing else.

And that was the exact moment in which you lost the battle, as you didn’t account for the surprise attack from behind.

You did gasp aloud as your feet seized to the ground. The sudden cold felt like knives piercing all the way up your bare legs and beneath your skirt as your upper body stilled in that brief paralysis.

Your rope dart went limp on the ground as you’d stopped controlling it. You were trying to catch your breath as that unnatural cold had risen all the way up into your chest then.

“Enough sparring for this morning…don’t you think?” A new voice questioned calmly, yet still imposing enough behind you.

“You always take his side,” You muttered through an involuntary shiver. You’d completely lost feeling in your legs by the time Aokiji walked by you with his hands back in his pockets.

“Congratulations on making captain.” The admiral said sincerely. Before adding, “Tsuru said she has a new assignment for you though. I’d head fast to her office, yeah?”

You stared after him in surprise as he kept walking, but with a mix of a little dread building in you all the same. Tsuru was the last person you wanted to be scolded by right now. But this fight had all happened so fast. Could she already know?

You quickly started refocusing your haki to melt off the ice. It looked like little bits of steam coming off of your legs before you were able to stagger forward with the rest of the excess ice shattering off of you as it fell to the ground in chunks.

Smoker was possibly getting reprimanded by Aokiji next. You could see them talking now. But the two men were friends, so it was doubtful. You really only saw Tashigi still looking upset, like she wanted to say something to you. But you turned your back to them all after collecting your weapon to wrap it back around your shoulder.

When you did so, you realized just how much of an audience you’d acquired in the courtyard. Not just people all gawking on the ground level, but shadows moving in the balconies above as well. Too many to care about right now as your long marine coat flowed behind you as you stormed off.

————————————

No part of Mariejois was actually a marine base. But in cooperation with the World Government, these administrative offices and meeting areas were shared with the marines.

You moved purposefully through the familiar corridors then, only stopping briefly at the women’s restroom area to mirror check yourself.

There was no time to change. All you could do was button closed your marine coat enough to cover up how your skirt and the bottom of your shirt were still wet from the melted ice.

You then took a wet towel next to clean your face of scuffs or dirt. It wasn’t so much vanity though as it was pride. You couldn’t look too disheveled, because that would mean that Smoker really had gotten the best of you.

He had been your longest physical relationship to this point. Two years of your life to that man. And now he’d just pulled the rug out from under you as his thanks for all the effort.

And as you’d turned away from the mirror, you heard the door and two other women coming in. They were talking amongst themselves.

“And she just attacked him right out there in front of everyone!”

“What a psycho!”

By their clothing, they were just two World Government clerks, glorified coffee getters actually. Not anyone whose opinion you gave a shit about even as the color drained from their faces when they saw you.

But you didn’t have the time, just shouldering roughly past them and right back out the door.

———————————

As you entered Tsuru’s temporary office, still concerned for whatever discipline might await you there, you were only surprised to see a couple more of the crew helping her pack her things rapidly away.

“You’re leaving already, ma’am?” You asked, knowing the whole purpose of the trip here had been for the warlord meeting she was always a part of.

Even as a captain yourself now, your official post was still on her battleship. You had sailed under this woman from your very first marine recruitment actually. And for the dynamics of Tsuru’s crew, that meant she was more like a stern mother figure to you by this point.

“There’s been an incident near Amazon Lily.” She responded while sliding her notebooks into one of the bags they had. “Sengoku has asked that we go immediately and deescalate the situation to mitigate any casualties.”

It was no secret that Tsuru preferred a mostly female crew. So logically it’d make sense for you all to deal with Hancock and her Kuja Pirates if it came down to it.

“Yes, ma’am.” You answered, relieved to already have another fight to focus on really. “I’ll go to the ship now and help ready for sail then.” You had started to turn on your heel for the hallway too before she responded.

“You’re not coming with us.” The Vice Admiral cut you off.

The confusion in your eyes as you looked back must have been evident as she immediately continued.

“The warlord meeting is starting now. I need you to present that report on the war in Charybdis in my place. The World Government is still hemming and hawing about giving us the funding needed to move into that area.”

Yes, you were the one who had made the report for her in the first place. But always with the intention that it would have her authority as a vice admiral behind it when presented.

She knew you well though, and even that brief moment of silence made clear your hesitation. Of course she would have none of it. “You know the data better than anyone else. It’s your report, so make it work. Get us that funding.”

“I’m not a salesman, Tsuru-san.” You still protested. If the marines didn’t move in to turn the tide in that war soon, so many more lives were going to be lost. It was not minor politics to be played at by a novice.

“You don’t have to be a salesman. Be yourself, that’s authentic enough. They’ll believe you as long as you’re firm on it. And when it’s over, you can sail back to Marineford on Sengoku’s ship this evening.”

She shoved the report folders into your arms next, the last things that had been on her now cleared desk. “File everything of the reports in the government archive here too when done please. We may still need to reference them again later for those other things we talked about.”

“Of course,” You could only agree reflexively, knowing now she had obviously made up her mind.

And you were all walking back into the hall together soon after as they’d taken everything else that they needed.

“Good luck, (Y/N)!” Your other crewmates offered cheerfully.

But it was Tsuru whose brow still furrowed as if she’d remembered one last important thing. She spoke to you quickly, but with emphasis. “The only two warlords who showed up today are Bartholomew Kuma-” Because of course he always did. “But also Donquixote Doflamingo.” Who almost never did.

And her eyes were truly serious in that moment as she warned you. “I would say Doflamingo must have a vested interest in the war as well for him to come here now. Nothing altruistic either I’m sure. You’ll be fine with Sengoku there of course. But, do not let your guard down with that pirate. He’s conniving and dangerous. You know this.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You answered again. Tsuru had been the vice admiral chasing Doflamingo from long before he had immunity as a warlord. And before he had been king of Dressrosa either. You’d been there for some of it too, all the way back from those North Blue days as a chore girl on her ship. But you knew their shared history predated even your time on her crew.

That brief look she gave you of still lingering worry was what finally made you relax slightly though. Because it wasn’t that same patronizing concern that Smoker had had.

Tsuru knew damned well what you were capable of. She didn’t try to keep too tight of a leash on you either. She had always done her best just to guide you instead. Direct the weapon instead of dismantle it.

“I’ll be fine.” You nodded at her. “I won’t be intimidated by someone like Doflamingo. It’d be an embarrassment to our crew.”

“I know. But go on then and be careful. They’ll already be starting.” She shooed you on after, before you both turned to head in your opposite directions.

————————————

And they had already started. You’d paused briefly, making sure your posture was just right and befitting of a marine before you walked in through the ornate meeting hall doors.

Vice Admiral Momonga was speaking about previous meetings’ minutes as you kept your calm even as you realized every chair seemed already occupied.

Mostly by lesser staff, World Government fodder likely here as well only for discussions about the Charybdis war. They would be your audience soon enough for this damned report.

There was at least one chair still open though as you rounded the table. And you thought you knew why. No one wanted to sit by the warlords.

But if they had to choose one, apparently they still chose Kuma. Because at this far curve of the table, it was another marine, then Kuma, then Doflamingo, the one empty chair, and then another government official.

So you didn’t have a choice as you slid silently into the empty seat beside Doflamingo and placed Tsuru’s folders on the table.

No one seemed to acknowledge your arrival. And that was fine as you were trying to discreetly reread the reports as the others kept working through their normal meeting preamble. You’d turned these reports in to Tsuru over a week ago, so the refresher was prudent.

But even as you listened while reading, there was something else that almost immediately distracted you.

The heady scent of cologne. It was odd to think that anything could smell so expensive. But it very much did as you saw movement in your peripheral vision.

You refused to look away from your paperwork though. Even as Doflamingo sank slightly down in his chair, as if he were getting more comfortable. His hands were in his pockets as he spread his knees wide open.

The warlord’s bright capris pants were then encroaching into your space to almost touch your own knees before you shifted your legs carefully away from him.

Your knees remained closed, then pointing towards the government official on the other side of you as you kept reading.

You didn’t know if anything in Doflamingo’s actions was intentional. But when he had moved, you’d smelled that cologne just minutely stronger. Affirming that the rich scent was indeed from the tall pirate.

Sengoku was speaking next. And you did finally glance up as you heard the fleet admiral mention you.

“Vice Admiral Tsuru has been unexpectedly occupied with a sudden matter concerning the Kuja pirates. Her subordinate, Captain (Y/N) will be presenting the Charybdis report in lieu of Tsuru this morning.”

And damn if every eye in the room wasn’t on you then. Though that oddly excited feeling was there as well as you realized it was the first time you’d been so publicly addressed as a captain. And there was absolutely no shame to also be noted as Tsuru’s subordinate in the same breath considering the immense respect you had for that woman.

“I do thank you for joining us on such short notice, (Y/N).” Sengoku continued, before uttering the words that really put the pressure on you. “If you could please go ahead and present the report. I know you likely have work elsewhere as well.”

“Yes, sir.” You answered as a visual transponder snail was passed in your direction.

Never had you presented at this level. But you’d been in enough lower level staff meetings to know the technology as second nature when you let the snail broadcast the documents onto one of the large screens that had been brought into the room.

You’d also been taught to stand whenever giving information to those who outranked you. So you were in your element as best as you could be, pushing your chair away to stand as you just got right into it to begin speaking.

But that wasn’t the hard part either you knew. Giving the information in a digestible format was one thing. Where it really came down to it would be when the questions started. You knew all too well that Tsuru had put her trust in you to not only relay your report, but to defend it as well.

And so you talked about the contributing factors of the war, the major players in it, the casualty estimates to this point, and the destabilization that it was ever escalating in the region.

To any humanitarian, the horrors of those details alone should have warranted full marine forces to intervene and force an armistice to stem the bloodshed immediately.

But you knew the real ways the World Government worked as well. And so lastly was the thing you were most trying to “sell” if anything. Your estimates on just how much was now being lost in trade and taxes with this region because of the indefinite conflict.

You wanted the government to conclude that it’d still be cheaper to deploy the marines in what would surely be a drawn out demilitarization of the area, than it would be to just let things continue unchecked as they had been.

The only variable that you really still worried about was who exactly was feeding the weapons sales on both sides. You’d only gotten an alias out of the pirates and mercenaries you’d captured on the ground there.

There was some individual named Joker still operating out there that they were more afraid of than even your rope around their throats.

You had told Tsuru of course, but both of you had agreed to omit this name from the reports. Because you didn’t know how in bed that individual may already be with the government. The criminals you’d interrogated had been too low level to know either.

That would be a beast to chase another day.

And when you were finally done with all of this and the questions did begin, it was the onslaught you’d expected. Just one voice after another, over and over.

They wanted verification of figures, verification of sources, this, that, everything.

It was hard not to grow irritable after awhile. You’d rather have been doing punishment laps in Marineford with Akainu screaming at you by then rather than defending all these inane quibbles the government officials had.

But finally the moment came where you waited for the next stupid bureaucrat to speak and only silence rose up instead.

Sengoku was a savior though, as after just that first initial silence he made sure to close the interrogation for good. “Thank you again, Captain.” He nodded to you. “This information will surely weigh heavily on our decision whether to mobilize forces to the region. We won’t keep you either. You are dismissed.”

You could have hugged the Fleet Admiral by then. But of course you didn’t let the relief show, only nodding respectfully before picking up all Tsuru’s folders again as you remained standing, then sliding your chair back in.

Sengoku was already speaking once more to the others as you turned to leave the table. And in your intense focus to defend your report, you hadn’t realized that at some point your warlord neighbor had further stretched out one of his long legs. But this time directly behind you.

It had to be on purpose now as you’d turned around and immediately tripped over it.

Only your reflexes saved you. Well arguably so as even though you didn’t fall, you’d had to reach out one arm to catch yourself.

The folders were clutched to you. But your other hand grabbed the nearest thing to steady your body.

As Doflamingo was still seated, it would have just been his shoulder if he were any normal man. But with his taller height, your palm then splayed out against his goddamned bare chest beneath his open shirt.

It was only a second of skin to skin contact. Your palm against the bottom edge of his stupidly firm pectoral muscle. And you prayed that no one else even saw it as you’d recoiled your hand just as fast and straightened up to keep walking. You may have even scratched him with your fingernails for how hard you’d pulled back.

Before now, Doflamingo had not made a single sound the entire time you’d been in this room either. But you heard a disapproving cluck of his tongue as you passed him.

And then something else that pulled from deeper down in him. It was so low, that you doubted anyone else could have possibly heard it.

“Tease.” Was the menacing whisper, making it the first time you’d ever heard that foul man’s voice directed to you alone.

But you didn’t look back. Physically relieved actually as soon as those doors had closed back behind you, and you’d been able to escape to the corridor with the outside guards looking on.

———————————

You tried to remember your promise to Tsuru of not being intimidated by Doflamingo as you moved through the halls on your way to the archive next. But your body was ignoring your brain somehow.

You felt flustered again. Not so unlike you had with Smoker this morning. But it was clearly different. With Smoker you’d been angry, hurt even if you were finally being honest with yourself.

You felt angry now too obviously. That some arrogant warlord would try to embarrass you in front of your superiors like that.

But that wasn’t all. You were frustrated by his insinuation. Because why did he say that to you? It wasn’t even the word really. It was the way in which he said it.

Tease.

Like a promise…or a threat. You realized just how much your conflicted feelings must show on your face as well for the very weird look the World Government pencil pusher gave you as you walked up to their desk at the entrance of the basement archives.

“Security clearance please.” The worker still said reflexively.

“Captain (Y/N).” You said your designation as you flashed your marine card from out of your pocket. “I’m bringing these documents to be filed about the Charybdis war.” As Tsuru had also requested you to do earlier.

The clerk looked at the government numbering on one of the folders briefly. “Bottom level, store room D. Please leave them in the return lockbox there and they will be cataloged in three to five business days.”

Ah, the joys of bureaucracy. “Thank you,” You said anyway as they pressed a button on their desk to unlock the stairwell door.

Once you were past the door and you heard the deadbolts slide back closed again though, you sighed.

You just needed to forget all of it. Fuck Smoker and his betrayal, fuck Doflamingo and his mind games. Nothing was supposed to be like this today.

But to your horror, you realized your eyes were finally trying to water a little as you began the long descent.

The basement archives were an absurd thirteen levels and you were now heading for the bottom as you descended the narrow stairwell.

Of course everyone had warned you. They’d said that you would be too much for Smoker to put up with in the long run. But you’d wanted him. Or maybe you’d just wanted someone who could hold his own against you period. And Smoker had just happened to be who fit the bill and was available at that time.

You wiped idly at your face and the new dampness there. You’d waited three months too, thinking you’d have a real man in your bed again tonight. You’d behaved in every port of call and ignored the cat calls and the stares of useless boys in the ranks in order to stay abstinent.

And for what?

To be left with nothing but a goodbye fight in the middle of Mariejois.

So that’s where your mind really was as you kept on down the stairs. The overly loud ventilation fans made even hearing your own footsteps difficult. But the constant white noise was kind of soothing too.

As you finally entered storage room D on the very bottom level, you had to click the lights on. There was a large metal table in the room’s center, with rows of shelving all around. Shelves full of different file boxes, as you found the lockbox noted for those still to be filed.

You slid your paperwork into the slot to complete your task. But hesitated after, now thinking how little your somewhat irritated thighs were going to enjoy the equally lengthy stair climb back up.

All alone at last, you opened your marine coat then to take a better look at your bare legs. The damage really wasn’t all that noticeable visually. But couldn’t Aokiji just have stopped at your calves? Did he have to ice burn you so far upward past that?

You were fiddling with your tight skirt next, trying to shift it slightly so that the side seam wasn’t pressing as much into the irritated skin there when you actually caught the smell of something.

Just the faintest hint of expensive cologne, completely out of place here as you realized with a sudden dread that you had left your back to the open doorway.

Your observation haki was still the weaker of the two types you possessed. But not unusable to you, especially when it screamed in your mind to move now as your body instantly chose fight over flight.

You could actually feel the air movement against the tears still in your eyes as Doflamingo’s strings passed you in a near miss as you dodged.

The coil of your rope dart was already slid off your shoulder by then as well. The dagger tip and rope glowing with haki as you struck back at your attacker, launching your weapon towards the doorway in a blur.

For how tall he was, the warlord moved as fast as anyone you’d ever fought though. Faster even, with only your haki keeping him from shredding your rope dart with his strings as they entangled one another.

His long fingers were jerking this way and that as you tried to keep up. It was exceedingly more difficult to protect yourself and your weapon at the same time.

His strings were slicing through anything else they contacted. The lockbox you’d just used exploded like confetti behind you.

String after string was dancing around your body too as you blocked with a pepper of armament coating. The confines of the room made strategy limited. There were only so many evasive moves you could make before you had to get in closer to him.

And your legs were your best weapon once the rope dart was out of play. You were too close to him now to get enough throw in the dart anyway, switching to kicks as your heavy ankle boots went for him hard.

Hard enough that he grunted with the rapid strikes, actually taking a few steps back. But you knew his own coating was protecting all those vital points just as quickly.

Haki meeting haki over and over as you tried to be fast enough to find a weak spot before he could cover it.

And when you couldn’t with your feet, you went for punches instead. You knew the switch up may give you a single chance to land a significant blow, and it really did.

He had still been focusing on your legs as you’d sprung off of your foot, up in the air, but then clocking him as hard as you possibly could in the left side of his face with your haki flared out from that punch.

The connect and the resulting way his face whipped to the side was the most satisfying thing you had experienced in ages. Even more so than hitting Smoker this morning in front of everyone.

But your satisfaction was short lived as Doflamingo’s leg came up in brutal retribution.

“Athlete!” He snarled the named attack, his entire leg coated with that aura of willpower then and strings arcing behind it from his foot as you tried to block.

It was too strong to matter though. Even though you did block him, your back still crashed into the far wall after the hit. Files flew everywhere through the air as you had shattered and twisted multiple rows of shelves when you’d been sent straight through them.

You’d coated your spine and the back of your head before the hit to keep from having your back broken or worse. But it still knocked the wind out of you and hurt like a mother fucker before Doflamingo’s hand was then tight around your throat before you could hope to charge him again.

He’d crossed the room in an instant to follow you. And you choked once initially in his grip, but didn’t plead as you glared up into those blood red glasses now looming above you.

That single moment of being stunned was all it took for him to lock you in place as well as you felt the strings now tightening around your arms and legs when he pinned you.

He was breathing audibly though with blood running from the side of his mouth as he did so. Your earlier punch had put his cheek into his teeth enough to shred some of that inner flesh you realized.

You could see the hateful sneer on his face and the angry blood vessel bulging on his forehead. But he didn’t even speak at first. When his strings were fully tight enough on your limbs, only then did his hand release your throat.

Which let you take a gasping breath of course, refilling your lungs as soon as able. Yet you felt his fingers on the side of your face next. Calloused fingertips as they moved roughly across your tear streaks to smear them even further.

“Don’t tell me you came down here just to pity yourself.” He said almost as a growl then.

“I thought you liked to fight.” He added soon after though. But the way he was watching you made it feel like he was beginning to pivot from frustration to gloating already.

“You attacked a marine unprovoked.” You breathed again, trying to get some mental grasp back by falling into protocol. “Your immunity doesn’t give you that right.”

His head tilted slightly at your wording, that predatory body language remaining. “Unprovoked?” He was starting to smile too. But it was an equally cruel looking expression. “I strongly disagree.”

And to your shock, the strings around your legs actually started to spread them open as he only smiled larger. “You have no idea how long this has been coming. Tsuru’s little pet…” He mocked with an unnerving chuckle. “And she finally let you out of the nest alone. What did she expect would happen?”

As he said this, he only paused long enough to remove that gaudy pink feather coat, hanging it out of his way on one of the mangled shelves.

But this boded even worse for you. Showing he was planning on remaining here for more than a short time as you tried to move against the strings abruptly then. Even testing your haki to see if you could weaken them that way. But as thin as they were, they were just too many to break.

At least not without incurring severe injury on yourself. You felt the immediate sting as blood ran down from one of your calves to drip on the floor when you’d pulled too hard against the sharp strands.

“Mmm.” He almost cooed, watching the fresh blood for a moment as he partially rolled up the white sleeves of his open dress shirt. “Willing to lose some limbs just to show me how tough you really are then?” He questioned.

But you shuddered as his hand found your inner thigh immediately after. He steadied your leg with his grip initially, actually keeping the string from digging in further. But he didn’t stop there as his palm slid up for his long fingers to press against your underwear after.

“You can’t be serious.” You spoke in complete disbelief at the unwanted touch. He was a warlord, a fucking king of an entire country actually. In what world would he feel the need to prove anything by forcing himself on the likes of you? Maybe that wasn’t where your thought process should have been in this moment. But that’s where it goddamn went as he started to massage you shamelessly through the fabric.

It just didn’t make sense for him to risk his status for such a basic crime. It really didn’t.

“I already told you.” He chided as he never looked away from your face now. “You and me…you’ve been playing with this fire for quite awhile, little marine. Fair is fair.”

What was he talking about!? You’d never even interacted with him before now. Not directly at least, and never alone.

You were startled again though as with just another flick of his fingers, your underwear was cut apart. He pulled the loose fabric away, letting the pieces fall to the ground as his probing fingers replaced the previous massaging immediately.

“And don’t worry about us being interrupted.” His voice was so smooth too as if he wasn’t now attempting to finger fuck you just below your skirt. “That peon upstairs isn’t going to say a word. I work for the World Government remember? And my influence here is still more than most would think.”

“But the marines,” You shifted, trying and failing to sound threatening at all as one of his fingers pressed quickly past your sensitive entrance.

“Heh,” he laughed a little as you tightened around his finger, trying to resist it moving deeper. “I told your cohorts that I had to take a piss. But my string clone is being a good boy in my place by now I’m sure.”

“The fuck did I ever do to you!?” You retorted at that, hating how simple it all really was. Was no one really going to realize his trick? And would he just kill you when it was all said and done to keep you from talking about this?

“You really are trying to bait me, aren’t you?” He laughed again. “Can’t I just say I want to fuck you? What’s so wrong with that? I’ve seen you around for how many years now? In your slutty little skirts, always ready to fight. But still ignoring me like the bitch that you are.”

No, you still didn’t fully believe that. There was more to this. You’d done something that made you a threat. But you’d be stupid to rile him up too much again. So you tried to focus on just surviving the here and now.

“And you’re still tighter than I thought you’d be.” He commented anyway though, clearly giving his attention back to the way your walls kept closing on his finger. “I bet even a weakling like Smoker felt big in there didn’t he? I saw the show you put on with him earlier. Made me a little jealous…”

His voice was also trying so hard to entice you. Every time he spoke, you felt like you were reacting to that just as much as his touch.

“Was that pissant really what you were crying over though? Did he break that little marine heart?” He continued, tracing another finger over your shirt, directly between your breasts at the word. “You know…the best revenge is just getting right back up and onto a new cock.”

The odd way his tone still deepened then, was he speaking from experience? You’d heard the rumors about him and Sir Crocodile.

But Doflamingo was also really moving his other hand harshly between your legs now. You could feel how slick it had already gotten to your shame as well.

Men or women, it likely didn’t matter to him. As long as he got to be the one in control. But still, why you?

“You talk a lot.” Was what you finally said, trying not to let your hips move against his hand like your traitorous body already wanted to do. He’d added a second finger inside you now, spreading things even a little more.

But he didn’t get angry when you responded again. It was as if he’d been waiting for it actually.

“Then kiss me and shut me up you marine bitch.” He taunted in return. Yet with it obvious that you were restrained and could make no such move before he suddenly bent down to take your lips by force instead.

And there was nothing you could do but endure as his obscene tongue quickly pushed its way past your teeth. The taste of his blood from your earlier punch was still heavily there as well.

He made a greedy sound against your lips, trying to coax your own tongue out as you held back.

And when you wouldn’t meet him there, he suddenly bit your bottom lip instead. Hard enough that you yelped into his mouth and pulled against the strings again.

But he only laughed as he grabbed you by the back of your head. Keeping you from biting him in return before the blood started pooling from your wound.

“You really thought you wouldn’t be punished for trying to break my goddamn jaw earlier, woman?” He was still smiling as he said it though, now watching your blood run down your chin.

“I think red really is your color though.” He added needfully too, and before you could turn your face away, he’d leaned in again to actually lick the blood trail from your skin.

Which transitioned into another wet kiss even as he held your hair with his fist tight against your scalp.

“Just accept what I’m offering you, woman.” He growled a little as he broke the kiss once more. “You want to live I’m sure. But I’m not unreasonable. Keep your mouth shut after this, and I’ll make sure your rank doesn’t stop at captain either. There’s no reason we can’t both have what we want.”

“You don’t even know me.” Somehow you still found those words to say. Even if you knew it was useless. You’d made the mistake of briefly glancing down when he’d shifted too. His large arousal was now obvious through his already tight pants.

But he spoke again regardless. “Don’t I? I know ruthlessness when I see it. Ambition.” Abruptly he’d slid his fingers back out of you now. His smile was nearly ear to ear. “That’s why Smoker turned on you. Don’t you get it?”

And you could only be more surprised as he squatted down in front of you without warning. Long legs bent, his ass almost touching the ground. But not quite as he grabbed your outer thighs to start pushing your skirt up and out of his way.

“They’re afraid of you, darling.” Doflamingo nearly purred, the warmth of his breath then against your exposed slit.

“So I’m the man you need now.” He said almost softly, just before his mouth closed around you.

You bucked and it only made him press harder, he was sucking you audibly. Mouthing your clit before letting his long tongue back out to sweep across it as if it needed to be licked clean. As if it was his absolute mission to send those trembles through your thighs and hear you whimper for him.

He had no hesitation, no shame at all as he kept his mouth and nose buried against you. You could feel even his glasses scraping your skin as he worked roughly and you shuddered multiple times.

“You see?” He did speak after another long lick, looking up at you again. “You want it don’t you? All of it. So take it. That’s what power is.”

He really was a manipulator, changing as fast as the tides to meet his goals. To imagine this level of confidence existing naturally in anyone would have been hard to believe if you hadn’t been right here to witness it.

“Are you recruiting me or fucking me, warlord?” You asked, but too overstimulated for it to sound like anything more than you struggling with yourself now.

He stood back to his full imposing height then, yet fondly licking the residue of you off of his mouth as he did so.

“Both.” He answered simply.

And as he said that, another few flicks of his fingers had every button falling off of your shirt. Both his hands spread your shirt open after, before he started feeling across the newly exposed skin.

There were bruises across your torso of course, but also still those little reddened areas from Aokiji’s ice burns of earlier. You realized just how much attention Doflamingo was paying to every inch of it too, tracing any damage before he slid your bra up and out of the way to begin squeezing your soft breasts.

“Is the rumor about you and Aokiji true as well?” The pirate asked straight out of the blue however as he looked over the light burns. “He did seem to take special care with you.”

“What?” You almost stammered as your chest continued to be groped, even as you felt another shift in the level of danger. Doflamingo was abruptly more serious again.

And when you didn’t immediately answer him, those glasses were staring straight through you.

“You’ve fucked him too haven’t you?” He clarified, as if you were too slow to understand.

And of course you had known what he meant the first time. The question was why it suddenly mattered, and why you knew to your core that things would explode now if you lied to him.

“We did.” You answered quietly. This was something you never talked about. “Before Smoker. But it didn’t last.” And even then, you felt you had to say why. “He thought I was too young then.”

“I remember that,” Doflamingo actually admitted though, squeezing your breasts a little harder then. Almost to the point of being painful after your confession.

“The rookie that already knew haki. Another pain in the ass whenever Tsuru’s ship would roll up in one of my towns before I became a warlord. I lost a lot of soldiers to prisons throughout the North Blue because of you all.”

Yet he didn’t sound angry anymore over that part of it. And he just kept on. “But now with Smoker out of the picture…I wouldn’t be surprised if Aokiji tries you for another round. You’re all grown up and an officer after all. But too bad for him, I got here first…”

And as if to reiterate that point, Doflamingo leaned down and kissed you again without warning. But even with your bloody lip, it was still different than any one he’d given you before now. He wasn’t dominating this time. He wasn’t even forcing you. It was a real kiss as you finally allowed your tongue to reciprocate in complete surprise to yourself.

Because it actually felt so very good. Good enough that you even made a wanting sound, leaning into it a little more.

You wanted to be held then too. But his hands weren’t on your chest anymore. He was doing something with them, and you weren’t watching as you were living for this kiss in this moment with your eyes closed.

It didn’t take long however to realize the trade off that had already been made. Because you felt the pressure of his newly freed cock against your entrance soon after. That was what his hands had been doing, loosening his pants enough to free himself.

It was so sudden. And he didn’t give you the option of even a verbal refusal either. You just felt yourself stretch abruptly as the head pushed inside of you.

He had straightened up again by then, breaking the kiss as he did so. And whatever pathetic sound you made at the pain of penetration, had him only stroking his fingers across your hair and scalp as he kept pressing in further with his other arm snaking around your back to hold you to him.

“Good girl, let me in…” You heard him breathe as you continued to stretch. “Open up for me.”

He was the biggest you’d ever felt. But you refused to even look down, not wanting to see how disgustingly your poor skin would be pulled to tearing just to hold his girth inside of you.

“Relax.” He commanded again. Moving his hips ever so slowly as his skin slid against your inner walls, still going deeper.

When his tip finally bumped against your cervix, you heard him chuckle quietly as you tried to bury your face against him in the pain. “See?” He spoke in almost a whisper above you, so intimate now. “There’s the end. That’s as bad as it’ll be.” His fingers were still stroking your hair as well, like petting a wounded beast.

And even inside you then as deep as he could go, his hips still weren’t fully flush with yours. He was just that sizable. But that tightness clearly was pleasurable enough for him as he moaned a little already, starting to move his hips in a slow pumping motion.

It was maddening. Both torturous, but overwhelmingly erotic to be filled like you never had been before. Pleasure and pain shifting back and forth interchangeably as his thrusting began to quicken.

His breathing had changed too. You could hear the almost desperation in what was becoming more a panting sound as he let himself give in.

You even felt the strings start to loosen as he wanted to hold you more with his own hands. He had grabbed your legs behind the knees now, bidding you to wrap yourself around him as he picked you up.

“Fuck me, (Y/N). Come on. I want to hear you.” He said in the closest tone to begging that you thought anyone would ever hear from this man. All the while his hips kept pumping into you.

And it was the very first time he’d called you by name as well. Not bitch, not marine, not girl or woman. He was talking to you as he fucked you shamelessly. And he wanted the same attention in return.

“Doflamingo…” You finally said it too, holding on to him as the strings let go even more in response.

You felt so sore already, so it wasn’t easy to start to move your hips for him as well. But he groaned as soon as you did, his fingertips then digging possessively into your ass as you pumped up and down on his shaft while he stood there holding you.

You even felt a slight shudder go through him before he started to walk. Still inside of you, he carried you back to the center of the room and the metal table there before roughly setting you down on its edge.

His movements weren’t smooth at all by now. He was far too consumed as he forced you onto your back, your cunt still hanging off the table edge with his hard cock inside.

He loomed over you as he held your legs up against his torso and started thrusting so hard in and out again.

So much so that the table legs screeched as they shifted a few inches across the floor while you cried out.

He growled in pure satisfaction at your own sounds. But he wasn’t talking anymore. He was watching you as he fucked you, as if trying to commit your every tremble and whimper to memory.

Your exposed breasts were moving with your body as you panted for him. His fingernails dug into one of them, making you cry again as he shuddered once more.

It was only when he realized you’d turned your face away, that he grabbed you by the jaw to make you look at him again.

“You’re mine.” The words were almost animalistic when they left his throat. Only seconds before his orgasm overtook him and you got to see the proud Heavenly Demon bite his own lip, overwhelmed as his body absolutely trembled.

And to drive home that possessive declaration, he never even pulled out of you. You could feel the tell tale pulsing running up from the base of his cock instead as his seed released inside. He purposefully held his length in too, as deep as it could possibly go for your body to take in every drop of him that it could keep.

Only the overflow was sticky and warm as you felt it dripping out to run along your ass soon after. He was still watching you as it did too, a slick of sweat on his abdomen from the body heat the two of you had made.

You both stayed like that for what felt like the longest time too. Surviving in the little aftershocks and neither wanting to let go for a few minutes.

He was still panting too, before he leaned back down over you, finally letting his now softening cock slide back out with a wet sound.

And you didn’t resist as he kissed you again with your back still on the table. Even with the pressure of him finally removed from between your legs, it ached terribly as you felt the last of the strings detach from your skin as well.

He knew he didn’t need them to control you anymore.

It was actually you who was the first to speak though. Just staring into those emotionless glasses when the kisses finally stopped again. “What now?” You asked as you felt him touch your hair again.

He wasn’t smiling. But he was thinking. “It really would be a waste to kill you.” He eventually admitted. His fingers traced almost delicately across your throat next however.

“But I won’t tolerate you messing with my money again, do you understand? I’ll forget Charybdis this time. You can have it. Because it’s become more trouble than it’s worth now. But if you ever hear the name Joker again, keep your pretty head out of it.”

Your eyes widened just ever so slightly, realizing that your instincts had been correct all along then. He must have followed you down here to find out what you really knew. And to destroy the reports no doubt in case there was anything else in them that could come back to bite him.

Whatever lust he held for you was just a bonus. If it could be called that anyway.

“I don’t care about Joker,” You breathed in return, still with his hand touching you as you actually turned your face to move more into his palm. “If it wasn’t you, it just would have been the government instead. We knew that. We already let it go.”

He huffed slightly, but still ran his fingertip against your wounded lip in return. “Keep it that way then. Don’t make me ever regret sparing you. Because forgiveness won’t happen twice, even for you.”

With that he did back away, letting you sit up on the table at last.

And only then did you get to see his still wet cock as he grabbed it to begin tucking it back into his open pants. It wasn’t at its full glory any longer of course, soft now even with a visible vein running the length of it.

You did get the briefest glance of his impressive balls as well. Hung like a young bull almost before he’d pulled his pants back closed and started tying the drawstrings that held them around his waist.

“So you are a natural blond.” You mumbled tiredly, daring to smirk a little actually. You’d seen his short pubic hair around the base too. It looked like he’d shaved it recently and it was only just growing back a little. What a vain man.

“Heh.” He smiled lewdly, more back to his normal attitude then as he replied. “And I’ll expect you to kiss it next time.”

“Oh yeah?” You questioned despite yourself as you slid off the table back to standing. “Well I’m probably going to be arrested for treason and being a warlord fucker long before then.”

You couldn’t see his eyes, but his tone made it sound like they would be rolling at you now. “I told you I have more influence than you think. This room will be sealed and cleaned up as soon as we leave. They’ll say they misfiled your reports and that will be the end of it.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. He’d put his pink feather coat back on now, and was just lingering with his hands in his pockets as he watched you also try to redress.

You’d pulled your bra back down and straightened it. Your skirt too before you’d buttoned your coat shut again as there was no way to close your shirt after he’d ripped the buttons off it earlier.

As you also regathered your weapon, you could only hope the cum still dripping out onto your thighs would remain contained in your skirt and coat until you could get to the showers and find a change of clothes.

It was him that spoke again though as he still watched you. “I wasn’t bullshitting earlier either. Just keep your friends off my ass and I’ll pull my strings literally and figuratively to get you promoted again soon enough.”

You glanced at him skeptically once more. “Just so you can have a high ranking marine in your pocket right?”

“Well of course. …And in my bed too.” At that he stuck his tongue out in a very vulgar gesture before laughing abruptly.

His legs were bent a little as he started to walk though, it looked funny until you realized he was trying to adjust himself. His still wet cock must have stuck to the inside of his pants.

You tried not to think just how bad the larger implications might be in the future though as you followed him back out into the stairwell. You were saving your own life, and likely some of Tsuru’s crew as well by keeping Joker’s identity under wraps for now.

But he’d expect this same level of cooperation ever after too, wouldn’t he? And likely even more before long. As you doubted anything would really stop here with an opportunistic man like this.

You had certainly fucked up today. But there was no redo to be had now.

Looking up the stairs, even your body thought you were an idiot in this moment. The accumulation of two fights, being frozen, and being fucked hard enough to still be hurting all the way into your cervix had worn you down as you thought just how many individual steps still lay ahead.

Doflamingo only hesitated one more time as he saw that tired expression on your face.

“I could help you, you know…” He teased as he levitated up a few floors instantly through the use of his strings.

You blinked, realizing he’d likely gotten to skip the stairs coming down as well. He could go up or down so easily.

“But then again-” He flipped to hang upside down briefly in the stairwell, clearly showing off for you. “No pain, no gain…right, my little marine?”

And before you could respond, he’d shot straight up the stairwell and out of sight with a deep, echoing laugh as his only memento while you were left staring.

“What a dick.” You grumbled to no one then as you started trudging slowly up the very first flight.

You deserved it though. Didn’t you?

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T⨂ BE

CONTINUED

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Thanks for reading!

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