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samodivaa · 8 months

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Training Techniques

Winter Soldier x Reader He is not allowed to move an inch—he can only watch you pleasure yourself—but why is there a ring on your finger?

Warnings - smut, light angst, mastrubation(f), rough sex, choking, breeding kink Words - 2600 ⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ You have absolutely no pleasure in the work in which you sometimes so madly indulge—training the assets with delicacy of words with which their handlers don’t approve of—Soldat is your favorite, with his expression of endless and unconditional gratitude and a silent promise of complicity unto death—he may not remember your face, but he always remembers your voice, its' gentleness. The soporific air of your room, in the soft breath of bread and sweets—he was sent there, because he was misbehaving again.

It has not been in the pursuit of pleasure that you have periled this life and reputation—but here you are—on your bed trying to sleep when you see him sitting on the chair, waiting. And this isn't a romance. You're not a damsel in distress and he is not the handsome prince who comes to save you—this is his desperate attempt to escape from torturing memories, from a sense of insupportable loneliness and a dread of the impending doom, but they didn’t know that.

You know.

He can't stop looking at you—Soldat is gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago, because he is not allowed to move until you instruct him to.

Subconsciously, he licks his lips at the sight at your body in a night dress and wonder if he will ever just cum in your mouth as you suck him off to your knees…or if he’ll take you by the hair before he’s finished and fuck you into a sobbing heap before blowing his load. It doesn’t seem worth the risk —but he wanted this for so long now, he needs to voice it.

“Please-” —an irrational and indulgent mistake. you stand up on your elbows in shock at the word he utters—his eyes drift leisurely back up to your face and his lips twitch. Soldat has fallen into a state of feverish lust, but that is not a justification for his disobedience. His heart goes into a shameless delirium when your eyes meet. “Desperate?” you mock, but underneath the mockery Soldat finds a reservoir of understanding. You lay back on the bed as nothing has happened, and your voice takes on a restful strength “I still need to punish you for that, Winter” He behaves as naturally, with such discretion, that he does not lose his composure, not even when you remove your wedding ring—who committed the impertinence of marrying you? He goes through a crisis of disappointment, fury, jealousy, but this is your way of giving Soldat a layer of respect—he wants to call it loyalty. And maybe you can be his or maybe you will be entwined in this sexless foreplay tonight.

He wants to ask so many questions, but he can’t. Not now. There is a pent-up curiosity, hysteria of his unsatisfied needs, unnaturally suppressed communion and also a kind of tense respect, because if he is obedient enough—he will be rewarded.

“You will watch me, that's all you will do for now” you say, your voice has sunk to a whisper. Your words stoke a warmness in his stomach, a fire in his crotch. And he doesn’t care what you will do with him—even if you want to cut him, sharpen him however you please—that's all he knows anyways. He wants this memory to stay what it is, one intense moment, something that is strong and sweet enough to stand on its own. Your room has turned into an idyllic paradise for a good many years, your skin glistening in the light coming from the slits in the blinds as your hands play with your breast through the nightgown. He has lost his voice and a thread of cold sweat runs down the path of his spine, suffocating with heat, because of the black leather clothes—the stiff collar and the tight harness that is restricting his breathing, is becoming increasingly annoying.

His eyes are growing moist with indignation, with angry impotence, and for the first time, he is barely controlling himself. It is the natural sequel of an unnatural beginning—he needs to be patient, but it’s hard—not harder than his cock—It's more erotic, more intense to watch you touch yourself. He is master of what he does, but never of what he desires. You are greatly overestimating his self-control. But this is what you are testing tonight—his ability to subordinate the impulse to fuck you. Self-control might be as passionate and as active as the surrender to passion, but you need to show him who is in charge while your panties are becoming steadily slicker. All you need to do is to tell him to come, but you refrain from doing the thing you want so badly—to be consumed by Winter. You glance up to find his eyes blazing with raw need—blue orbits pleading for you to command him. You spread your legs open, positioning yourself in front of him—one hand still toying with your nipple while the fingers of the other hook in your panties and drag them down your legs slowly before throwing them in his direction. His breath stutters as they land on his left boot and Soldat eyes them wickedly, knowing that all he can do is watch.

"Good, very good, Soldat '' you coo, sliding two fingers into your core, scissoring and stretching, curling over the one sweet spot—imagining his metal digits. You remove them as your index finger takes their place, rubbing slow, torturous circles on your clit, sliding down to tease your opening, then back up. Over and over again.

He slides his tongue across his teeth, remembering the taste of your nectar, becoming more and more aroused with every beat of his heart that runs down his shaft.

“I want you so much, gosh” he is stirred by the lust in your smooth voice. You are breathing deep with your mouth wide open—he doesn’t blink, he doesn’t dare blink. Soldat can swear he feels the pressure of your palms on his cheeks—or is it a memory? Everything is a memory to him. “I want you here, fucking me” There is something raw and pleading in your voice that surpasses sexual desire, these fleeting moments of carnal craving.

With the auspicious attention of a strained killing machine, he examines your fingers, your shivering body and listens to your muffled moans meticulously. It is such a tumultuous and intemperate invasion to his mind—your scandalous behavior is pulling at every string of his nerves and self-control.

It is such a prolonged act, so meticulous, so rich in all aspects as you are giving yourself over to the deserved adoration of your own body and pleasure. It leaves Soldat breathless at the tremendous spectacle of your nudity and lack of shame as you bring yourself closer to the edge.

“Jesus-I am so close” You confess, surprised at how fast the arousal is budding. You arch your back and hips buckle like an electric current runs through your body, moaning, rubbing your clit faster, forcing yourself to let out a louder moan. The orgasm wrecks your body from head to toe and being watched by a ferocious male is exciting—all he needs is a feeling as primitive and as simple as that of love.

You see his eyes, still unblinking and you feel menaced by some invisible danger—you are keenly aware of every movement, every breath you take. Lust is a weed that grows in the vacant lots of an abandoned mind and the stacks of bad words that you have been forced to swallow, spills “Soldat, come here” you command, languid and serious.

You lick your lips, trying to quench the thirst for him. Your throat is dry as you watch him between your spread legs, getting up and slowly coming towards the bed as his thick, black pants fall to the floor around his feet, the belt clattering noisily. Winter craws on top of you and he cannot articulate a word, capable only of an animal sound, a strangulated wheeze that shocks him deeply, enraging him, this sudden loss of the faculty of speech that feels somehow bestial and forgotten. He breathes, his chest rising and falling so close to yours.

“Kiss m-” you whisper the words, and before you even finish saying them, his mouth is on yours and you are melting under his lips, eyes flutter shut—and it is blissful oblivion—giving you the most intense and explosive kiss you two have ever shared. With the coldness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue beneath yours, you vow an endless bliss. He pulls back with a groan—Winter’s sky-blue eyes stare back into yours, and in his eyes you can see no parting from you. You put your hands on either side of his face, and the room falls away. You have never gotten so lost in a kiss before. And the kiss is not gentle. It is a wrestle of who would lead the excursion into the territory of passion and ecstasy, heat and unending craving for one another. You suck on his lower lip between your teeth and he lets out a low groan. It sounds almost aggravated and definitely impatient. Fire looks into his quiet eyes, touches his dear, familiar face—you lean upwards for a moment and dip your head towards his ear, grazing his soft skin with your teeth, while your hand slides to the harness. Soldat stills, angling his mouth towards your bare, perfect neck. You feel a warm slickness on your skin, his tongue trailing a path towards your shoulder.

It is a wild, animalistic compulsion, an urgent need as he suddenly slots himself between your legs and you turn your head away. Your fear is returning, crawling through your limbs and leaving you numb to everything. You shut your eyes, gripping the sheets, and whimper when he pushes himself inside you. He releases a ragged breath before moving, slow but with purpose, and you simply take it with soft whimpers and gasps as he pumps in and out of you, now starting to set a steady pace. His eyes, the blue completely gone from his them, soften for a moment and he kisses you tenderly before he whispers in your ear, his breath puffs against your skin. He spends a good amount of time on your neck, a brief stop at the base of your throat—he wants to bite you, but he can’t—something melts inside Soldat that hurts in an exquisite way—you are not his. “Who did you marry, Snow White?” He asks, voice throbbing with menace—before slipping inside you again and burying himself to the hilt. Sex with you this time is different, he has never felt this dominant, this claiming. He is so far in that his balls are right against your lips. You arch your back and moan “It doesn’t matter” as he slides back out nearly all the way before slamming into you hard and fast. You wrap your legs around his waist as he slams into you over and over, the only sound in the room is the skin slapping. You close your eyes and swallow. Your mouth parts and stills—your voice is barely a whisper as his tip touches your cervix. “Pierce…I am closer to ruining his plans, closer to freeing you” Despite your eyelids being tightly shut, a single, hot tear runs out of your eye. You are so angry that it has escaped—so angry—he stops his trusts completely. You moan as you feel his movement out of you. Then, as he almost has the tip fully out, he slaps it back in. When your eyes meet his gaze as you are sitting here staring at each other, time stops. Your fingertips reach to trace the metal shoulder, but he grasps your hand with his own. He leans down, far enough that the ends of his hair brush feather-light against your face, catching in your lashes and tears.

His breath, warm and measured, hits your cheek. Two breaths. Three. Then you stop breathing, and a second later, you feel his lips on your mouth. It is hungry, desperate. His metal hand wraps around your neck, thumb presses into the skin—you moan, it ripples over your nerve endings. His breath caresses your ear again—his grip on your neck tightens. And this makes you always still and submit…the act of Winter taking shameful, contemptuous possession of you is the kind of rapture you want.

“Next time-” you try, but with your restricted of oxygen brain, you are not able to. He tastes passion. He tastes lust. He tastes his power over you. He tastes a world of stimulants he’d never imagined. You are right there in front of him, he can do whatever he wants. Winter loosens his hold—only to observe you as you breathe raggedly, sliding down slowly, a moan ripping from your throat.

“Next time he calls you in his house, I will be there, too”

I have nothing to give but my heart so full and these empty hands.

“I need to kill them one by one, Winter” His mouth curves into a smile—his eyes are light blue and dancing with life. He pauses for only a fraction of a second. Then he leans forward and presses his lips to yours "Okay, yeah, yeah" a devil-soft whisper. He blinks several times like he is trying to comprehend your plan word by word. His trusts become so hormonal—you want his roughness. His other hand slips to your waist, pushing you into the mattress as he fucks you. For him, sex intimately relates to the most primitive kind of human contact, which can satisfy all of his needs he has been deprived from. "Winter " you gaspe breathlessly "Slow down" You try to let out a choked squeal, but his metal hand tightens around your neck again, muffling any sounds, your toes curling as he brings you steadily closer and closer to orgasm, reeling from the thrill and the fear from both his forceful thrusts of his powerful hips and the choking. Soldat is unrelenting in his domination of your body. But you are his at this moment, your cunt clenching around him while you mewls and grunts fill his ears, he can’t slow down even one bit. Logic would say that this is insane, every other fibre of his being says it's right—he has to fill you up. You can't move. You can't breathe. And his pace. And the adrenaline. “I will cum inside—dear Snow White” This is his demarcation line, all of a sudden it seems unfair to withhold it from you. Your inner muscles tighten as waves of pleasure start to build and ripple out. You don’t normally get off this fast, but you are lost in the exquisite sensations—you put your hands on his metal arm as your body bursts into flames, your fingers curling into the metal. You can’t make a sound and it is a shame, because it is the best orgasm you ever had. It is unbearable, unreal, unimaginable—it is too much as your eyes can only see darkness due to the choking. You can only hear a broken and hoarse cry escaping his lips, his warm come filling you up completely.

You can hear his breath, as your vision slowly becomes solid—a stray lock of dark hair falls into his eyes as he is looking down—he moves his hips back and then into you again, enjoying his cock being in a tub of cum, swimming in your honey.

#I WAS POSSESSED #but this is real #metal arm kink fr #winter soldier x you #winter soldier smut #winter soldier imagine #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier fic #winter soldier fanfiction #smut #slight angst #bucky smut #bucky barnes smut #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel x reader #bucky barnes imagine

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3rachasdomesticbanana · 2 months

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The Bet | Bang Chan

•Synopsis: After losing a bet with your boyfriend, your penalty is to do whatever he says that night. But what sort of penalty does he have in mind in the middle of a nightclub and why are crotchless panties involved?

Who would've thought losing a bet would be so much fun?

•Pairing: au Bang Chan x Female Reader

•Content Includes: Heavy smut, Established relationship, Public unprotected sex, slight Restricted movement, Soft Dom Chan, Minimal fluff, Crowded area

wc:3k+

an: edited but might still contain some errors

Want more smut? Follow the banana 🍌

“Remember the bet, baby girl.”

Your boyfriend Chan whispers in your ear making you shiver.

You're innocently sitting on his lap in the VIP section of an upscale nightclub somewhere in downtown DC. The club pulses with energy as the heavy bass reverberates through the sleek, dimly-lit space. The air is infused with the scent of expensive perfumes and colognes, mingling with the subtle aroma of alcohol and cigarette smoke.

Smooth leather couches, separated by a red velvet rope line the perimeter of the dance floor, offering cozy spots for groups like our own to relax and chat amidst the excitement. The group of friends you two came with, move with confidence on the dance floor in front of you bathed in hues of deep purples and blues. Hip-hop, EDM, and R&B classics fill every corner of the room. You nod at your boyfriend's words believing he wouldn't go through with the penalty of the bet you lost against him.

Why you bet him that you could deep throat him without gagging wasn't the smartest thing you've done. Chan is far too thick and lengthy to take every inch without gagging even a little when he hits the back of your throat with the swollen head of his cock. Now you wait in a short black leather pleated skirt with a pair of crotchless panties underneath waiting for his command. With every drum his finger plays on your hips you feel your body respond to him. Little touches here and there make you fully aware of all the places his hands and fingers linger on your body. From your back, through the exposed slit down your blouse to your navel. He touches every bit of flesh he can without the movements looking indecent.

There's possibly over a hundred people inside the club and that's just on the floor you're on, there's two other floors below you. You feel certain Chan won't do anything too drastic around all of these people, that he just wants to tease you and keep you on your toes. Though with this man you've been with for years now, you can't ever put anything past him. He's capable of doing so many things others would never dream of doing. If he wants something then nothing will stop him from his goal. It was that way when you met through your boyfriend at the time. He was a toxic asshole and Chris knew he could treat you a thousand times better than he ever could. So he proved it to you every chance he got. Won your heart and eventually your mind, body and soul. You've been happy ever since. Everyday was an adventure with him, full of spontaneity for you, yet carefully thought out in his mind.

So when you feel him lower the zipper of his designer black ripped jeans you're not really surprised. You aren't prepared for him to wrap his arms around your midsection though. In one quick move he pulls you back against his chest and you yelp in surprise. The movement frees his cock from the opening in the front of his boxers. It springs up and out, resting against your ass. Your eyes go wide, your mouth agape and you're at a loss for words. It would take one shift from you for him to slip between your thighs or inside of you. As if he can read your mind, Chan settles his palm flat on your thigh with just enough pressure for you to understand him without words. Doesn't stop him from whispering in your ear though, knowing how his breath on your neck will affect you.

“Don't move baby. Not until I say so. This is a penalty remember… not a reward.” He smirks, proud of himself for this brilliant idea.

Chan is loving this little game of his and he wants to drag it out for as long as he can but the feel of your soft supple ass flushed against his hard length makes him feel like a mad man. He wants to ram himself inside of your sweet slippery walls and plow himself into you until you're creaming all over his cock and dripping down to his balls. He flexes the stiff muscle and grins wickedly when you groan softly. How long can he repeat that move until he feels it inch further and further away from where it rests? until it plops into your needy cunt? He wonders to himself. Maybe if he calculates it right he can make it so his cock doesn't find its way inside of you just yet. He'd love to fuck your thighs for a little bit. Feel you squeeze him with those thick fleshy thighs that he loves.

While you're sitting as still as possible forcing yourself to look as if nothing is wrong, Chan plots behind and underneath you for more ways to tease you like this. Momentarily you're both pulled out of your inner thoughts and intimate bubble when a couple of your friends come over to the table to hydrate and to get you two onto the floor to join them dancing.

“Come on bestie dance with us! Hannie keeps stepping on my feet.” Your best friend exclaims setting down her drink and side eyeing her boyfriend.

“Hey hey that wasn't my fault Minho bumped into me. I'm being framed.” Han puts his hands up in surrender.

You're laughing at the couples playful bickering in front of you but you can feel Chan’s erection twitch again as your laughter rocks your body.

“You two go ahead, you know Chan and I like vibing and watching you guys have fun. We'll join you before the night's over.” You smile in their direction and Chan's does it again.

This time flexing his cock three times making it bounce under you until it slips through your thighs briefly brushing past your clit. Your eyes go wide and you gasp. Very quickly you pretend to sneeze covering your mouth with your hands.

“Bless you baby.” Chan says and you can hear the smile. “Why don't you two show us exactly how to have fun yeah? See if we can compete with you guys later.” He adds over your shoulder and whatever Han sees on his buddies face he's taking your friends hand and pulling her away from the lush VIP area.

He chuckles watching the pair disappear into the crowd and pushes up off the couch as if he's trying to get comfortable but the move only rubs your aching clit with the side of his stiffness. Every vein and ridge brushes the nub making you squeeze your legs together which is exactly what he wanted.

He groans softly before he whispers in your ear, “No moving remember?” and you groan in frustration.

“Please Channie. I'm so wet can't you feel how bad I need you?” You whine, turning your head to look at him.

His coffee colored eyes glitter when they find yours. His full lush lips part and he runs his tongue over them. When you bite down on your own lip you feel him again and you know he's just being stubborn in not giving in and filling you up.

“Because you said please. Slowly scoot up forward to grab your drink off the table and then back down.” He instructs and you nod turning back around.

Your drink, a mix of pineapple and cranberry juice sits in front of you on the oval glass table with beads of condensation dripping down the sides. Stretching your arm out, you slowly inch forward feeling Chan sliding down between your folds becoming slick with your juices. Your hand makes contact with the glass and when you slowly move back to how you were you feel him stretching your cunt wide each inch you push back onto him. The sensation is heavenly and you want to take your time. To enjoy the feeling of him finally inside of you but Chan is an inpatient man and he’s gripping your hips, pulling you back with such force that your drink splashes over the surface and onto the floor. You inhale sharply clutching the glass tighter than you normally would on a normal night out.

If you thought the feeling of Chan inside of you was heavenly, he'll describe it as exquisitely delectable. God he loves it when he bottoms out inside of you, loves it when you take all of him so well. He'll push himself even further though there's no where left for him to go just to hear you whimper the way you are now.

“Shhhh baby, that's it. Fuck. Now no moving no matter what. Good.”

You feel his cock pulsating inside you and keeping a neutral face has never been more difficult than now. If you two weren't surrounded by at least a hundred people right now your ass would be bouncing up and down on him until he was shooting and filling you up but instead you sit still, following his directions and sporting a very natural blush that no makeup brand could ever replicate.

How long could you both sit here like this without needing to cum? How could he even control himself to not thrust. Damn it… he feels too good and you need some stimulation so you ignore what he's told you to do and begin rocking back and forth nodding your head like you're doing nothing more than enjoying the song that the DJ plays. It's enough to make you cum right there but Chan's strong hands stops you with a groan sucking in air between his teeth.

“Hey hey hey.” He says softly. “You were being such a good girl.” His voice his husky and low, it makes your muscles clench around him and when he groans again it does nothing to stop the need you feel.

“Channie.” You whine, not caring about your dignity. “I can't do this. It's too much I need you to fuck me.” You admit squeezing your legs and in the process, squeezing his cock with your cunt.

He curses under his breath fanning your hair at the nape of your neck making you shiver. It's unintentional, completely innocent but you shivering pulls a instinctive thrust from Chan. When you moan he does it again and you have to remember that you're not alone when the urge to arch your back and grind your way into a climax tries to take over. Chan is fighting a battle that he feels he may lose because you just feel too good wrapped around him. Even if you don't move, all you have to do is bear hug his cock and he'll lose his sanity, his composer and unravel.

He didn't think he'd be the one suffering right along with you. As someone who thinks everything through he didn't think of this part. Now he's fighting his compulsions and the impulse to fuck you hard and rough even with an audience. When he makes any sort of sound it only turns you on even more and he knows your walls can't help but clench in response. The way your pussy swallows him up, contracting around him like it's trying to milk him has his brain going fuzzy.

“Fuck, y/n baby. I'm so glad this pussy is mine. If I fucked you right now could you control yourself baby? Or would everyone know that I'm deep inside of you giving you all eight inches of my cock? Hm?” Chan growls gritting his teeth digging his fingertips into your skin.

“Mm- I… I can try baby. I can't make any promises. You've got me too worked up. Please just fuck me though. I don't want to wait until we're home and I definitely don't want you to stop.” You reply sounding breathless as if you two had already been going at it.

“If we're doing this you have to keep still, no moving yeah? You do exactly what I say. If not then we're stopping. This is so we don't get caught okay?”

You nod looking straight ahead, focusing your eyes on the lighting fixtures that hang from the ceiling. They cast subtle patterns on the walls, adding to the ambiance around the club. Occasionally, bursts of colored light sweep across the room, adding to the atmosphere and hypnotizing you when you feel Chan start to move. He's squeezing his legs together like you were doing and bounces his legs to the beat of the song. Each squeeze and bounce creates a tiny thrust, his cock, barely moving in and out but it feels so good you almost close your eyes.

“Dance with me baby. Tap your foot. Fuck- mnh squeeze my cock with your pussy.”

You don't need to be told twice you do as asked without hesitation and the added movement on your part increases the thrusts. He's able to pull out of your cunt further, before snapping back up into you. The music is your focus though you don't hear what's playing, you keep the rhythm Chan has, nodding your head and keeping your breathing even. It's not easy, there's moments where you let slip a moan or a gasp that gets drowned out by the bumping bass. Even Chan can't control the raw uncontrolled sounds that escape him each time your pelvic muscles grip him.

Luckily for you two all your friends are still on the dancefloor but for how long? That thought is all too apparent to Chan and he cannot have anyone interrupting this. It feels too good to stop; he'd be liable to burn the place down in a fit of rage if he was forced to pull out of you before creaming your pussy, breeding you just how you both love. Heads will roll if he doesn't get to finish you both off.

“Need… mmm. Shit baby girl, I need you to cum q- quick can you do that for me?” He asks, his voice strains and his hands snake around your abdomen wrapping you in his arms. You nod in response. It's all you can do, you're afraid that if you try to utter a single word you won't be able to stop the noises that will spill from your lips.

“Good girl, now squeeze me and rock your body to the beat like you were doing before.” He steals your drink from your hand and brings it up to his lips nonchalantly but you hear his moans when you tighten your muscles.

Chan is close; he just needs you to reach your peak so that he can spill himself inside of your greedy cunt. So with his free hand he gently presses his palm down on your stomach just below your belly button. The pressure makes your legs shake and you stutter with your rocking but you find the rhythm again with ease, grateful that the song is a fast paced one.

With his cock throbbing inside of you and the rocking motion of your hips, Chan is now grunting behind you, quietly praising you behind the glass of your drink.

“Oh fuck baby, keep going. Mhm you're close now aren't you y/n? Yeah, I can feel it. So gorgeous when you cum. I can just imagine how you look right now, flushed cheeks, lips parted wanting to scream my name.” He grunts and adds more pressure to your abdomen and bucks his hips once and fast.

He's right you are close and you're more than certain that you're making a mess of the front of his jeans. Neither of you care, your impending shared orgasm on the forefront of your minds. With every rock of your hips you feel Chan's cock bump against that sweet spot nestled deep inside of you that only he can reach. Your walls quiver and you bite down hard on your bottom lip. Your brows crinkle together, making you look angry while you fail to look like nothing is happening other than a happy couple enjoying the music the DJ provides. Behind you Chan is struggling but not for long. With a popping sound, your bottom lip springs out from your teeth and you're gasping like you can't get enough air into your lungs.

“Chan… fuck.” You gasp and that's all that he needs to hear. He understands exactly what you mean.

“Yes…” He hisses, pushing his pelvis hard against you. “That's my girl. Oh fuck,” He gasps along with you. “Cum all over me y/n.” Chan mutters cumming inside of you, shooting hard and deep while the walls of your cunt throb with your own release.

With your movements slightly restricted to stay unnoticed, the orgasm is unlike any others that Chan has coaxed from you. It’s as if you've been plunged into an icy lake and the suddenness takes your breath away. Your body is on pins and needles and fucking hell does it feel unbelievable for both you and Chan. Your cunt devours every bit of his seed, still hungry for more. You're shaking all over and it takes Chan’s strong arms hugging you to slow down your breathing and your body to relax.

“Fuck.” You whisper and he chuckles.

“Mhm, I can't wait to get you home y/n. Hope you've got nothing planned tomorrow. I don't think you'll be able to walk when I'm done with you baby.” He informs you and your pussy reacts clamping down around his slowly softening cock.

“Oh, is someone already ready for another round?”

“Another round? Hell yeah bro let's end the night with a fucking bang!” Felix cheers from seemingly out of nowhere, pulling you and Chan back to the now. The shy giggles you two let out leave everyone confused as they join the table one by one.

After ordering another round for the group you both excuse yourselves and as descritley as possible separate from each other without anyone noticing. The whole way to the restroom laughter erupts from you and Chan.

“I can't believe we did that!” Chan shouts over the music and pulls you into his arms. His lips land on yours kissing you until your head is spinning.

“Keep that up Mr. Bang and I'm pulling you into the bathroom with me.” You scold him playfully. He calls your bluff, kissing you again and grabbing your ass for good measure.

“Go on, I'll be waiting beautiful.” he nods in the direction of the restroom doors.

Once cleaned up you and Chan rejoin your friends. Finally making it to the dancefloor, you dance an entirely different dance than before. Your body still feels lit up and the craving you have for your boyfriend still remains. You'll hold him to his promise when you get home but the one thing you love about him is that he always stays true to his word. You know he'll deliver, he's all action as well as words. Who would've thought losing a bet could be so much fun?

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judaimutou · 2 days

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#yu gi oh #ygo #yugioh cards #yugioh #yugioh manga #ygo manga #yu gi oh manga #comparison #comparation #kuriboh #thousand-eyes sacrifice #thousand-eyes restrict

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rubysunnday · 10 months

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as white as snow

summary: Y/N runs into Anthony Bridgerton, someone she's known of for years, but never gotten close to, at the winter solistice ball. Through a dramatic turn of events, the two are forced to acknowledge one another and their feelings.

The winter season had always been a dark, cold and occasionally lonely one. Many families of the ton left London for their country estates, choosing to spend the winter time in sprawling fields.

But there was one event that many families travelled to the outskirts of London for. the Countess of Derby's solstice ball.

It was the biggest event of the winter period. Invites were a coveted prize. Which was why Miss Y/N Hughes was currently staring, open mouthed, at the green envelope in her hand, her name elegantly scrawled on the front in gold.

'Y/N, close your mouth, we are not a codfish," her mother, Lady Hughes, snapped, setting her teacup down on the saucer with a clink.

Y/N hurried over to her mother and held the envelope out in front of her. Her mother cast an uninterested gaze over to her hand. There was a second before the envelope registered in her mind and, when it did, her mother let out an undignified shriek, snatching it from Y/N's hands.

"Robert! ROBERT!" Her mother yelled, barging past Y/N and hurrying into the morning room where her father sat, reading the newspaper.

Y/N stood to the side, trying not to show her amusement at her mother's reaction to the invite.

"We must go to the modiste right away," Lady Hughes said, rushing back into the room, their housekeeper trailing behind. "We need new dresses suitable for this event. Y/N, come along, we need to get you a new dress, dear."

"Is this," Y/N inhaled sharply, "corset meant to be this tight?"

"Of course, miss," the modiste said, pulling the laces even tighter. "It's meant to accentuate the waist and boobs."

"I think it's meant to be comfortable," Y/N muttered, wincing as the boning began to poke into the side of her boob. "And allow me to breathe."

Her mother had insisted the modiste was to dress them the night of the ball - making sure their new dresses looked the best. No expense had been spared, as was always the way, and Y/N's new gown was covered in gems and beads.

It hung on a hanger, on the edge of her door, sparkling and glittering in the candlelight. The modiste trotted over to the door, lifting the hook of the hanger off the wood.

Y/N put her hands on her waist, wincing as she tried to take a full breath in, the tight corset restricting the action.

"Would it be possible to loosen this corset a bit?" Y/N asked, looking over at the modiste.

"No, we would ruin the silhouette of the dress otherwise," the modiste said, shaking her head. She turned to the dress. "Now, let's put this on."

Their carriage rolled to an abrupt stop. Y/N tried not to lurch forward, gripping the carriage door tightly to stop herself from falling into her mother's lap.

"Remember, best behaviour," Lady Hughes warned, poking a few pins further into her hair. "We want to make an impression. And you, dearest," she looked at Y/N, "are running out of time to make a match."

"Oh, mama -"

"No, I won't hear it. You've been out in society for almost two years. Unless I see something happen tonight, your father and I will be arranging a match for you."

Y/N's eyes widened. "What? Mama!"

"Silence, Y/N." Her mother leant forward, pushing in to her space. "We will discuss this more later."

The carriage door opened and her father jumped out, extending his hand out to her mother, guiding her down the stairs. Y/N took a moment, pulling back the blanket that covered her legs, and then slid across the seats to the door. She lifted her dress up and put a slippered foot onto the first step, placing her hand in the footman's.

The Countess of Derby's mansion was a magnificently beautiful building. There were fifty-five acres of immaculately maintained gardens and the house itself was set in over two thousand acres of land.

It was a beautiful example of architecture. Each brick had been placed with care, flowers curling around the columns and windows.

Y/N pulled her velvet cloak tighter around her shoulders as she began to walk up the steps. A freezing gust of wind whipped at her skin, raising the hairs on her arms. Braziers and torches lined the stone steps leading up to the front door. Footmen stood at intervals, ready to assist if anyone needed it.

"Miss Hughes!"

Y/N turned, looking back down the path. Another coach had pulled up and its inhabitants were clambering out in a gaggle of laughs and complaints.

"Lord Bridgerton!' Y/N exclaimed, a smile overtaking her face. She walked back down the steps, holding her dress hem up off the floor. "This is a surprise!"

Anthony Bridgerton took the steps two at a time, meeting Y/N half way. He took her gloved hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it, all whilst looking directly at her.

Y/N suddenly found it hard to breathe. His gaze was intense and his hand warm against her cold skin.

She'd known Anthony for a few years now. It'd been a chance meeting at the opening of a new art exhibition that he'd brought them together. Both of them had been drawn to the same painting for the same reasons and, suddenly, Y/N had a new friendship.

A friendship she yearned to evolve into something more.

"Brother? You're blocking the path."

Anthony stood up, rolling his eyes as he did so. He stepped to the side and his younger brother, Colin, stepped up.

"Hello, Miss Hughes," Colin said, winking at her. "You look lovely."

"As do you, Mr Bridgerton," Y/N said, smiling back at him.

Benedict followed behind Colin. "Miss Hughes," he said, nodding at her, a smile on his face. As he passed, he squeezed her arm in greeting.

"Mr Bridgerton," Y/N replied.

Daphne and Eloise followed behind their brothers, the former practically dragging the latter with her.

"Duchess," Y/N said, curtseying. "Miss Bridgerton." Y/N leant in to Anthony. "Good lord, there are a lot of you."

Anthony sighed heavily. "Imagine the carriage ride."

Y/N greeted Lady Bridgerton as she walked past, smiling warmly at her. "Shall we head inside, Lord Bridgerton?"

Anthony held out his arm and Y/N placed her gloved hand in the crook of his elbow. "We shall, Miss Hughes."

As soon as they stepped inside the foyer, Y/N's breath was taken away. Fir trees covered in candles and decorations sat in each corner, lining the expansive space. Each one guided them towards the main ballroom where even more fir trees were stood. Dancers waltzed around the room, reds, greens, golds and whites blending together.

"Is this your first solstice ball?" Anthony asked, his voice quiet.

His breath danced across her skin and Y/N felt her arms tingle with goosebumps.

"Yes," she whispered, her eyes trying to take in every detail in front of her. "It's... magical."

"Here, let me take your cloak," Anthony said, releasing her arm and coming around to stand in front of her. His fingers effortlessly undid the bow at her chest. His knuckles brushed across her skin, his signet ring cold to her warmth.

Y/N breathed in deeply and then regretted it as her corset almost tightened around her torso. She hid her stuttered breath until Anthony turned away, handing her cloak and his cape to the attendant by the door.

"Would you like to -"

"Miss Hughes?"

Y/N mentally swore. She turned her head and forced herself to smile at the older man standing in front of her, looking expectantly at her.

"Captain Sanders. I'm an old friend of your father's," he explained. "Your mother said I could ask you for a dance."

Y/N felt her lungs constrict. "Oh. Yes, of course, Captain."

She reluctantly held out her hand to the man. As he led her way, her other hand brushed against Anthony's her fingers locking with his for a split second as she tried to cling on.

Anthony watched her disappear into the crowd. His hand clenched into a tight fist and he then flexed it, trying to ignore the jealously and pain going through him.

It'd taken him far too long to realise Y/N was who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He'd know she was running out of time and now, when he was about to begin trying to court her, she was being pulled from his grasp.

"Please tell me you did not just let Captain Sanders whisk Y/N away," Benedict said, coming to stand next to his older brother.

"He didn't give me much choice," Anthony grumbled. "Apparently her mother sent him over."

"Ah, Lady Hughes - she's on par with Lady Featherington."

"What do I do?"

"Are you actually asking me for advice?" Benedict asked, gaping at his brother.

Anthony shoved his shoulder. "Yes." Anthony sighed. "You know why."

Benedict did. He'd seen how his brother looked at Y/N, how he spoke to her, acted around her. She made him a better person by simply existing in his life. Anthony had never smiled as much as he did when Y/N was around.

"Ask her to dance," Benedict said with a shrug. "Then, take her for a stroll round the room and tell her. Her mother is clearly plotting. You know your time is limited."

"I know," Anthony whispered, his gaze fixed on Y/N as she danced around the room. Her gaze fixed on his for a moment and he felt his heart ache.

Y/N, too, felt her heart ache. Felt the pain of being so close to the man she wanted. Yet so far away.

Captain Sanders walked her back to her mother after their dance ended. Y/N could feel her dress clinging to her skin, the corset restricting her every movement and every breath. She knew it was far too tight - it should not be this painful to simply breathe.

"Captain Sanders, I do hope you'll call on us tomorrow," Lady Hughes said, smiling at the man. "I'm sure Y/N will be delighted to see you again."

Y/N just nodded.

"Now," her mother said, as soon as they were alone," your father and I have decided that come spring, you and Captain Sanders shall be wed."

Her heart stopped. A high pitched whine took over her hearing, drowning the ballroom noise out. Y/N put a hand on her stomach, trying to maintain her composure.

"Mama -"

"No discussion, Y/N," her mother said, the warning clear in her tone. "You've had two years. Time is up."

Her mother flounced away, leaving Y/N behind. She stood there, stunned. Her breathing had quickened, her chest frantically rising and falling.

A cloak fell around her shoulders and Y/N jumped slightly, her head shooting up to see who had appeared behind her.

Anthony, his dark eyes full of concern, looked at her. "Shall we go outside?"

Y/N nodded, numb to everything around her. She didn't even realise when Anthony took her hand in hers, gently tugging her out onto the veranda.

The cold, winters air hit her instantly. It did nothing to calm her racing heart, to ease the tightness of her lungs as they stuggled to keep up with her panic. Her corset was impossibly tight, her vision was begin to spin.

"I am to be wed," Y/N whispered, walking aimlessly down the steps of the veranda and out into the hedged gardens.

Anthony followed at her side, his hand still holding hers. "I overheard."

"Captain Sanders is the same age as my father," she said softly.

"I know."

Y/N stopped abruptly, the reality of her situation hitting her. It stole what little breath she had left and the gardens began to spin in her vision. Everything became harder to focus on - as if she was being spun around and around and around.

"Y/N?" Anthony said, his tone urgent. He squeezed her hand, trying to get her attention. "Y/N, what's wrong?"

Y/N's breath was laboured, her chest rising and falling far faster than it should've been. She gripped Anthony's hand tightly, her nails digging into his skin.

"Corset," she gasped out, arching over, trying to breathe. "I can't breathe."

Her knees buckled, she could feel herself falling, she gripped onto Anthony's arms as he fell down with her. Her head hit the gravel path and the blackness overwhelmed her.

Anthony knelt beside her, his hand holding hers. His heart was pounding. "Y/N?" He gently shook her. Her head lolled to the side. Her chest wasn't moving and when he hovered his hand under her nose, no breath hit his hand.

He was trying to stay calm, to focus. But his heart was controlling him. Anthony shook her again and then, abruptly, harshly, remembered what she'd whispered.

Anthony pulled her limp body up and rested it against his chest. His fingers ran down her back, struggling to undo the buttons of her dress. One snapped off as he tried to undo and, in a moment of frustration, he ripped the buttons open.

He could see the red lines where her corset had pressed against her skin, even through the chemise underneath it. It didn't take him long to realise the corset was far too tight.

He'd seen countless corsets over the years and knew how they were meant to be done up and tied. This one was too tight, to constricting. No wonder she'd collapsed.

Anthony deftly undid the laces, pulling on them until the material of the corset came loose from Y/N's body. He laid her back down on the ground, making sure the ribbons of her cloak weren't tight around her throat.

He waited for a moment but she still wasn't breathing. Anthony shook himself and snapped back into action. He tilted Y/N's head back and gently opened her mouth. He leant over her and pressed his lips to hers, breathing into her mouth until he had no air left.

Anthony took a deep breath in and then pressed his mouth to hers again, blowing all the air he head into her.

"Come on, Y/N, please," he whispered, resting his forehead against hers.

There was a horrible moment where Anthony thought nothing had happened. That it hadn't worked. That, all the tales his tenants told him of men coming back to life after someone breathe for them, were false.

But then, Y/N started to cough, her hands flying up and gripping his arms tightly.

"It's okay, I've got you," Anthony whispered, pulling her up and into him, letting her lean against his chest. "I've got you, Y/N. I've got you."

Y/N slumped against him, closing her eyes as she tried to catch her breath. She let her hand trail down his arm until it reached his hand. Y/N threaded her fingers through his and squeezed tightly.

"You saved my life," Y/N whispered.

"You scared the hell out of me," Anthony whispered back. He leant his chin on the top of her head. "Why was your corset so tight?"

"Modiste insisted on it,"" Y/N replied, her words coming out a little clearer as her breath came back. "She kept pulling tighter and tighter."

"Ssh," Anthony whispered, sensing her panic brewing. "It's okay."

"It's not though," Y/N said softly. "Nothing's okay, Anthony. I'm to marry a man I barely know. I have no control over anything anymore."

They sat there, on the cold gravel path, clutching on to one another. Anthony pressed a kiss to the top of Y/N's head and she closed her eyes tightly, resting her head on his arm.

Snow began to fall around them. It danced gently down, light enough that it wasn't going to settle, but enough to tell that it was snowing.

Anthony helped Y/N to her feet. He turned her around and carefully did her corset back up, making sure the laces were comfortably tight. He then did the back of her dress back up the best he could, swearing every time he fumbled with a button.

Every time he did, Y/N laughed softly, her shoulders shaking.

Anthony turned Y/N back around to face her. He pulled the hood of her cloak up, letting his fingers trace the line of her jaw as he pulled away.

"You still have control," Anthony said quietly. "You can still chose."

"How?" Y/N asked, her voice almost lost to the dark night. "How can I chose?"

Anthony raised his hand, brushing his knuckles along her cheek. He held her chin in his hand. "Chose me."

He saw the surprise in her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to hide it, he could see it.

"Anthony, you..."

"Have changed," Anthony said, cutting her off. "I apologise for making you wait so long, Y/N, darling. But I know, now, that it is you I want to spend the rest of my life with. No matter how long or short it is, I know the time we spend together will be worth the grief and pain that may come later."

Y/N looked at him. "Do you truly mean it?"

"Every word. With all my heart."

The snow began to fall faster, the flake getting bigger. Y/N smiled at him, her eyes lighting up for the first time all evening.

"You can kiss me again, Lord Bridgerton," Y/N whispered. "I'll be conscious this time, I promise. I'll remember this time."

Anthony chuckled. "You'd better, Miss Hughes."

Anthony leant forward and pressed his lips to hers. There was a moment of quiet bliss before the urgency, the desperation, the desire took them over.

They walked backwards, disappearing behind the hedges and into a smaller, secluded garden. Anthony pushed Y/N until the back of her legs hit a stone bench. He guided her backwards until she was lying down on the bench.

Y/N pulled away, pushing Anthony back slightly. She smiled up at him, her skin hot.

"Lord Bridgerton, are you so desperate to make me yours?" She asked, dragging her hand down his hair and then onto his neck. Anthony groaned softly, leaning his head back into touch. His hand brushed down her thigh, the sensation reaching her even through her dress. He reached under her dress and Y/N arched up into him as his fingers danced up her leg, to her inner thigh, pulling the chemise up and up and -

"I don't think I could wait a moment more," Anthony whispered, pausing. "As long as you -"

"Yes," Y/N replied, pulling him down onto her and pressing her lips to his again. "Just.. yes," she whispered against his lips.

Anthony's hand resumed it's dance, delving higher and then disappearing inside her. Y/N felt a noise she'd never made before escape her lips and she arched up into him, her hand gripping the back of his neck tightly.

"Our absence will be noticed soon," Y/N said, her words disappearing into a moan. Her nails dug into his neck as he pushed her dress up higher, his fingers dancing around before going deeper inside her.

Anthony smiled, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered, "Don't worry. I'll be quick."

#bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton x reader #anthony bridgerton fluff #anthony bridgerton angst #anthony bridgerton x fem!reader #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fancfic

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rintoshis-archived · 3 months

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— 𝓓octor's 𝓸rders. ♡ ft. 𝓩ayne from love and deepspace

SYPNOSIS. Curiousity kills the cat. But, there's someone who's just too irresistible to not explore. You dive head first, but ended up getting played by your own trap. Your curious paws dabbled into restricted areas. Ah, so this is what happens to the cat. Doctor Zayne didn't have any time for this. But... He went overtime. WORD COUNT. 1.1k words PAIRINGS. Zayne x Reader WARNINGS. semi-public sex, office, creampie, fingering(f receiving), handjob, kissing, spitting, semi-clothed, p in v sex, no protection (wrap it before you tap it pls), binding of hands (using hands) lmk if there more! OTHER NOTES. hi :) eenjooyyy

''Are you done? You've been plaguing me like a virus.'' Zayne complains, setting his cardboard clipboard atop the paperwork scattered across his desk. He takes off his stethoscope and places it somewhere far from the mess. ''No.'' You reply shortly, pulling out the chair from the front side of his table. You heard him sigh, making you want to bug him further.

''You're awfully hyper today. You should go bother someone else.'' He said, pressing the power button to turn on his high-tech computer. A digital screen appeared before his eyes, reports flooding his vision. His left hand massaged his temples, finding a way to ease the sudden twinge of pain.

''I'm not hyper. I'm just... Curious.'' He didn't pay you any more attention, his hands scanning the papers stacked on the right side of his desk. ''About what?'' His eyes didn't meet yours, instead, kept busy with the written words on paper. ''What really happened to Angelo's district? I won't believe anything the news says unless it's from you.''

''What does Angelo have to do with you?'' He muttered with a hint of hesitation. He grabbed a pen from a cup, signing away on the mountain of papers. ''He was a good guy, you know.'' ''Is that why his district got terminated?'' You sat up and finally poked the answer out of him. Your eyebrow raised from his quick response, and you didn't seem to understand it.

''Maybe it was his team's fault.'' He frowned, a quiet reply to you. You can't read Zayne. No matter how long you've been friends for, you'll never truly know what's going on in his head. Your eyes catch his stethoscope, an old sticker you lent him before was still stuck onto it, and you smile. You reached over to grab it, but his hands caught yours.

''What are you doing? I told you to go bother someone else, right? Our appointment was over 46 minutes ago.'' He finally locked eyes with you, his brows still furrowed. You swat his hand away, getting your hands on his stethoscope. Your hands made work to tuck your hair behind your ears and put on the two earpieces.

You stride closer to the busy Doctor, the stethoscope in your hand. ''Say... If you were asked how many hearts you listened to, how many would you say?'' You turn his chair to face you, and your hands cage him in his seat. Your free hand finds the rhythm of his heart on his chest, eager to listen to the music playing in his body.

''About a thousand now.'' He says under his breath, letting you do your experiment on his body. ''I'm not a practice doll.'' A piece of hair falls in front of your eye, but Zayne takes it and tucks it behind your ear. His hand rested on your cheek, and a heartbeat played in your ears as his fingers rubbed shapes on your skin.

''Do you hear it?'' He asked, and you nodded, the calm serenade of his heart made yours sync up to his. ''Of course, I do.'' The hand on your cheek pulled one earpiece out, and he leaned into your ear. ''Do you hear how much it's yearning for you?'' Your hands shook on his chest, but his hand trapped yours, keeping it steady. ''Behave, Doctor.'' He whispers, placing a kiss on the bottom of your ear.

You crawl into his lap, longing to be closer to him, as if your hearts were magnetized to each other. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, your hands still remaining on his chest, raising up and down, matching the tempo of your rigid breathing.

His hand let go of yours, traveling under your shirt, finding your heart like you found his. Your warm skin contrasted to his cold temperature, a small flinch from the small contact. He laid his palm onto your chest, feeling your heart through his hand. ''Are you nervous?'' He asked, and you frowned. ''Stop asking me stupid questions.'' You reply, and he chuckles.

His other hand swiftly unbuttoned your shirt, and while you tried to take off the stethoscope, he stopped you. ''Keep it on.''

Luckily, you didn't wear anything troublesome today. He took off your pants and your shirt, keeping your undergarments on. ''Still inspecting me?'' You mock him, but his hands travel across your body, teasing you back. ''I have to make sure all patients are healthy.'' You cringe at his words, but you smile at his attempt at flirting.

His hand tugged on your panties, setting it aside to gain access to your wet cunt. You nestled your head deeper in the crook of his neck, the air getting warmer by the second.

You let out a whimper when his cold hands massaged your needy clit, rubbing circles on it while you tremble for him. Your hearts are practically touching each other now, your chest against his. ''Zayne...'' Your hand paws at the zipper of his slacks, pulling down his boxers to let his cock spring free. You spit on your hand, putting work into pleasuring him too.

He lets out a small groan, he can feel your clit twitch, while he holds you tighter to his chest, making you feel his heart race for you. He slides two fingers inside you with ease, immediately getting coated with your arousal. You moan at the curl of his fingers, withering by the second.

''Zayne!'' You try to keep your voice down, while his hand continues its assault on your pussy. ''Fucking beautiful.'' Your hole tightens from the crisp sound of Zayne cursing in your ear. His hot breath tickled your ear, inching you closer to cumming on his fingers. Your hands were still on his cock, making sure you two cum together. ''Cum for me.'' He said.

You close your eyes in anticipation, your orgasm creeping closer and closer until you let go. You let out heavy breaths, your body tired from the pleasure waving your body. His hands grabbed your waist, slamming you on his desk. He took the stethoscope from your ears and put it on himself. He rubs his cock on your cunt, teasing your entrance.

''Can I?'' He asks, and you moan in desperation, taking it as consent. He pushes himself in, feeling the tightness and the wet coat of your arousal around his cock. He takes both of your arms and places them above your head, locking them both as makeshift handcuffs. His free hand places the stethoscope on your chest, listening to the fast beat of your heart.

You were a moaning mess, not caring enough to notice the stethoscope on your chest. ''Zayne.. I'm close!'' You warn him, and he whispered in your ear, ''Cum for me, pretty girl. Let me hear you scream for me.'' You whimper loudly, a new wave of overstimulation washing over your senses as you cum on his cock, soon following you.

''Come visit me more often. You know where to find me.'' He says.

:D ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2024 do not copy

#ㅤ ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀི ⟢ 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐃﹒ㅤ #@fusaes #love and deepspace #love and deepcpace x listener #loveanddeepspace #love and deepspace zayne #zayne #zayne love and deepspace #lads zayne #zayne smut #love and deepspace x reader #love & deepspace #love & deepsace x reader #zayne x reader #Zayne love & deepspace

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fortheb0ys · 3 months

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FUCK I LOVE MAKAROV'S SMILE😭

FEM ALIGNED + MINORS DNI

Makarov would look at you, smile adorned on his face as he asks for your cock in his mouth. Even with his mouth full, his lips stretched wide, he eyes still show mad glee. Teeth slightly scraping your cock as you push it in.

His smile wouldn't fade as your hand is around his throat restricting any air. Your rough thrusts sending him farther into unconsciousness.

You'd loosen your grip just before Makarov would blackout. A mad laughter would erupt from his chest as breath came back to him.

He'd ask for you to do it again and again. You'd fuck for hours and his smile never left his face.

He wouldn't beg. Men like him don't beg. He'd threaten. His teeth would grip tightly on your throat just as his walls around your cock. He'd threatened to rip out your throat if you stopped. His teeth nearly breaks the skin.

He could feel you pulse under his teeth. Your heartbeat quickened with a mix of adrenaline, lust, and a bit of fear. Your bedmate murdered thousands, and what stops him from killing you?

Teeth clamp down hard, as Makarov finally breaks the skin. A small moan escape your mouths as you feel Makarov lick at the blood. He rotates from hard bites to gentlely licking.

"Fuck me or die." Makarov says through gritted teeth, his accent thickened with lust and violence.

Even though the night would end in bloodstained sheets, you were more than happy to fuck him till the sun rose up.

#MAKAROV I LOVE YOU BBG #YOU'RE MY LIL SWEETIE POO #vladimir makarov x male reader #vladimir makarov #vladimir makarov x reader #x male reader #dom male reader #dom reader #sub character

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msgexymunson · 5 months

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One Slow Blink Part 2

Second part right here due to Tumblr restrictions

Description: As a nurse, you want to help people, as many as you can. But, with the insane things that have been going on in Hawkins, and the crazed look in Dustin's eyes when he stumbles into the ER covered in blood with an impossible tale to tell, it makes you wonder; how much are you prepared to give?

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, *Here there be monsters! Honestly, there's straight up monster fucking in this so if you're not into that do not read*, AFAB sub nurse reader x dom monster Eddie, kinda Alpha/Omega without them knowing it, injury descriptions, S4 does happen and Eddie lives but he be a monster, hand job, fem oral receiving, male oral receiving, consensual predator/prey dynamic, fingering, very rough sex, biting/marking, unprotected p in v, knotting.

A/N: This has come from yet another deranged dream of mine. I imagine Eddie looking kinda like a mix between the Beast from the original Beauty and the Beast, and the dog/kangaroo guys from Tank Girl, but with a longer snout. If you don't know, that's a dirty mix between a lion, a bear, a wolf and maybe a little of Venom's tongue (because I am a whore.)

22k words for both parts, I know, mental, but it's worth it ;)

Masterlist Part 1

You must have fallen asleep like that, as once your eyes open it looks to be almost night, the sun dipping past the horizon. The light slipping past your makeshift curtain is a deep red. You ache all over, especially your shoulder, but it doesn't stop you from smiling.

At some point he must have pulled you on top of him, both arms circling you possessively, holding you to his chest like a child's doll. His member has slipped out of you; you can feel the stickiness of his release coating the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

Breathing changes as he stirs beneath you, opening his eyes in a squint.

“Hey you.”

He murmurs a soft sound from his chest, licking your cheek with his long tongue.

“Ew! Eddie, you've got dog breath.”

“Charrrming.”

You laugh, hitting his chest playfully, shifting above him so you're straddling him.

“We better get cleaned up, I've got to get to the hospital in a few hours.”

Eddie whines, grabbing your hips as you try to stand, pushing your wet heat against his twitching bulge.

“Eddie…”

You breathe out in a warning, but it sounds too needy. He's not listening, rubbing you back and forth over his swelling length.

“Eddie I don't think I can take another round, you were- oh fuck-”

The sentence falters as he catches your clit, setting a thousand butterflies loose in your tummy.

“I’ll… be gentle.”

You hiccup a little laugh, staring down at him with a raised brow.

“I don't think you can.”

“Forrr you… I can.”

You reach out to stroke his fuzzy cheek and he nuzzles into the touch. The affection he shows from that simple gesture has you relenting, guiding his member into you, slipping in easily, his previous sticky release helping its journey.

Sitting back and allowing yourself to revel in the beautiful stretch, you experience that familiar wash of relief, a calm caressing your very soul. Eddie seems to feel it too, letting out a long breath as his shoulders lose tension.

“This feels right,” you confess, hand running down his chest, “like, like-”

His gravelly purr interrupts your spill words, reverberating through your ribcage.

“Like you… werrre made forrr me, sweet-hearrrt.”

It's much slower this time, more of a languid grinding as you both move against each other, that undercurrent of need more of a smouldering heat, rather than the unquenchable fire from earlier. Eddie pants as he watches you, tongue hanging from the side of his mouth as you reach your precipice, your eyebrows knotting and body shuddering around him.

Falling against his form, entirely spent, skin glowing with sweat, you hold onto him as he chases his own release. True to his word, he's much more gentle, gripping your hips and moving you to meet his shallow thrusts. You see his snout scrunch when he's on the brink, just before he pulls you off of him and holds you to his torso. You can feel his cock pumping out his orgasm against your stomach, glueing the pair of you together.

“Eddie, you didn't need to-”

“Last time we werrre… stuck togetherrr, for half hourrr.”

You giggle, astonished at his words.

“Really? Damn, I must have fell asleep.”

“You did. Couldn't move. Was… nice.”

Reaching up to play with the fur on his cheek, you think about what he just said.

“You know, I think that's knotting. You know, like d-”

“If you say… dogs…” He warns, winding a finger in your hair and tugging gently.

“Fine. Canines.”

He grabs you, holding you in place as he slathers your face with his tongue, drooling all over you.

“Eddie! Yuck, stop, stop!”

“Thought I was… dog. This is what dogs do… rrrright?”

You squeal loudly trying to extricate yourself from his hold.

“OK, OK! You're not a dog! Stop!”

He finally relents and you get up, unpeeling from the sticky skin and matted fur of his stomach.

“Right, I'm gonna have a shower before you start humping my leg.”

He snaps his teeth at you playfully as you leave. When you're standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you see why your shoulder hurts so much. There's teeth marks in it; pinpricks of broken skin tinged with blood. They aren't deep, but the redness around them looks like it's going to leave a hell of a bruise. For some reason, you're not mad. The opposite in fact. It feels like a claim. You are his, and this is so the world can see.

Once you're clean and relatively dry, you go into the living area to find some food, throwing on one of Eddie's new t-shirts. It may as well be a dress, the hem kissing your mid thigh.

Something doesn't feel right though. Suddenly there's a rolling in the pit of your stomach, a sense of impending doom. The light streaming through the partially boarded windows is still an ominous red. Risking a look, you peer out of the slats and see the sky.

It's flashing red and blue, as if there's an enormous thunderstorm boiling the heavens, but there's no sound. It looks unnatural, colouring the landscape around in the same foreboding hues. You feel hot, and sick.

Eddie barrels into the room with a towel still around his waist, tackling you to the ground.

“Eddie, whats-”

“Stay low… some-thing coming… smells wrrrong.”

You whisper as quietly as you can.

“What can you smell?”

He takes a moment, snuffling at the air with his eyes closed.

“Outside… woods, dirrrt. Frrriends, coming. And… can't ex-plain in worrrds. Sticky… chem-i-cal… pulsing… grrey blue. Wrrrong.”

You suppose that's what you get for asking a question about something you can't possibly understand, what with the stark differences in your senses. You try a different tact.

“Have you… smelled it before?”

“Differrrent… but, similarrrr… to up-side-down.”

There's the shoe that you were waiting to drop. Now the feeling in your gut made sense.

“Eddie, you said… friends were coming?”

“Harrrrrington… and Henderrrrson forrr surrre… smell the damn hairrsprrray.”

In spite of the situation, you giggle. He flashes his teeth, dropping his guard for just an instant.

There's a powerful knock at the door that makes you jump. Eddie leaps up and flings it open with such force that it slams into the wooden wall sending dust flying.

You just about make out the figure of a girl with a shaved head and a bloody nose who thrusts an outstretched hand toward Eddie. Dustin's voice rings out behind her.

“Elle no!”

There's a strange force, like a gust of wind with no air that buffets around Eddie's snarling form. You feel it pulling you, ripping you backwards as you roll across the floorboards. Eddie seems unaffected, not moving from his spot.

“Eleven, stop! You think monsters wear pink towels??”

The girl looks baffled and turns to where Dustin is running forward, waving his arms wildly. Steve is following quickly behind. They both look battered and bruised. As Steve comes into focus you see his entire front is covered in blood.

Instincts kicking in, you shoulder past Eddie and run toward him.

“Steve, what happened!”

“It's alright it's not my blood. Eleven, this is Eddie.”

Ah, Eleven. It makes more sense now. The powers, the shaved head.

“Who- is she?”

Eleven stares at you with a confused expression. You introduce yourself, and explain what you think you are.

“...I'm, er, Eddie's girlfriend.”

Eleven's eyes widen but she doesn't say anything. Dustin, however, can't possibly stop the words spilling from his mouth.

“Girlfriend?? Seriously? But-”

“Henderson, focus! That's not important right now!”

“I was just asking, Steve!”

“Well don't we have other stuff we need to-”

“Hey!”

Shocked, you realise the shout came from you.

“Everyone, just calm down and get inside so we can talk, OK?”

Your words seem to cut through all arguments as everybody makes it inside, standing and looking at you for direction. Attempting to keep the authoritative air you've managed to concoct, you order them to sit down whilst you and Eddie get dressed.

When you're no longer feeling so exposed, you come back into the living room holding Eddie's hand.

“Right now, Steve, you first. What the fucks going on?”

He weirdly looks at Eleven first, who gives a curt nod.

“Right, right, so, it's a little-”

Dustin cuts in.

“-Vecna's back from the Upside Down with his Demogorgons and bats and stuff and they're taking over Hawkins and we need Eddie Dog to help defeat him!”

Stumbling back a little stunned, your wide eyes search his vainly for the sign of some prank. There is none.

“So… you're saying there's monsters in Hawkins??”

Steve responds calmly, juxtaposing Dustin’s trembling form.

“ ‘fraid so. Nance and Hopper and everyone else are holed up in the library. Everyone left in the town’s there. Well, everyone who's not dead or ran away.”

“Wait, so Hopper’s alive??”

“Yes! He was captured by evil Russians but Mrs Byers got him back and-”

“Alright, alright,” you hold your palms up to Dustin, “what does Eddie have to do with this?”

“Listen, Henderson's got this theory that Eddie's… powers… came out so he can stop Vecna.”

“But that's absurd, he was bitten!” You turn to Eddie but he looks just as shocked as you.

“Yeah but, we've seen a lot of people today who've been bitten by something. No one else changed.”

“Exactly,” Dustin says, grinning, “Eddie's got super strength now, he's all healed, I bet he's got other powers.”

Eleven starts talking unexpectedly.

“I tried to throw him. He did not move.”

“See!? He's a superhero.”

“So, wait, Eleven can't throw him,” you begin, “but that doesn't mean she can't throw stuff at him. What's to stop Vecna throwing a car or something?”

Everyone looks at Eleven.

Wordlessly, she focuses on a lamp that sits on a side table. To your astonishment, it begins to float in the air, then hurls itself at Eddie with remarkable force. Then the strangest thing happens. It hovers a few inches from Eddie as if stopped by an invisible barrier, then falls to the floor uselessly.

Silence. You break it, voice splitting as it goes high pitched with worry.

“Right, but that doesn't mean Vecna can't hurt him, just because Eleven can't, right? Right??”

Eddie's the one to respond, holding your hands in one bearish paw.

“Sweet-hearrrt, they'rrre rrright… I can help… I should help… need to prrotect the Shirrre… prrrotect you.”

“But-but-” Tears well in your eyes as you stare back at him.

“I need to… otherrrrwise… I am… this… is all a waste.”

You nod, but pull your hands from his and walk into the bedroom, shutting the door behind you. The pain is too much to bear. It does make sense, if you were being rational, but right now you aren't rational. Nothing about this is rational. You've just found the love of your life and you might lose him to this stupid fight.

Fuck. You love him.

It's finally clear. The feeling in your stomach, the draw you have toward him, the fire in your veins, in your heart. You barely know him, but you love him.

And now that might get ripped away because of some damn fight that shouldn't have had anything to do with him in the first place.

You perch on the bed, head in your hands as tears leak down your cheeks. There's no fight in you to stop them, grieving for something that hasn't happened yet but seems inevitable. There's whispering in the other room, plans being made, but it all sounds like it's underwater, drowned by the power of your tears.

After a while, Eddie opens the door and shuffles in the room, sitting down on the bed next to you. He slowly starts to explain the plan to you, how Will can sense when Vecna or the monsters are near, how Elle will help clear a path, how he has the strength to defeat him, since Vecna's powers are all he has. He doesn't have the speed or strength that Eddie does.

There's a loaded quiet when he's finished. You're angry, wiping away stray tears fiercely from your face, but you're not angry at him. You're angry at the situation, at Vecna, at the Upside Down. Angry at the powers that seem to be pulling you apart.

“Fine. But I'm coming with you.”

“No,” he snarls, pulling his arm around you, “they need… heal-ers. You… can help.”

“But what if- what if you get hurt?”

“Won't.”

“Promise?”

Staring up whilst you are brimming with tears, he cups your face, looking back at you with soulful eyes.

“I'll do… everrry-thing I can.”

“No!” You shout, tears falling once again as your face heats up, “you can't say that, they say that in the hospital and people die!”

Wringing your hands, flipping them over and over each other in your lap, you barely notice Eddie falling to the floor in front of you.

Then his burly arms are circling you, his maw pushed into your abdomen, inhaling you deeply, sweetly. It stops your incessant fidgeting, fingers resting in his long locks. They wind into his hair, twisting through to massage his scalp as he purrs into the flesh of your stomach.

“Eddie, if you love me you'll come back to me. Do-do you love me, Eddie?”

He looks up at you, deep chestnut eyes searching your face.

One slow blink.

There's a soft knock at the door and Dustin opens it.

“We have to go soon. Are you ready Eddie Dog?”

Eddie growls low in his throat, swivelling to face him on all fours, hackles raised. Dustin immediately attempts to backtrack, arm raised to try and protect his face.

“I mean, I didn't mean- it's from the demogorgon, you know, demodogs, Eddie Dog, I did think DemoEddie but Dog-”

Eddie pounces, pinning Dustin to the ground. Dustin's eyes scrunch shut as he screams, voice breaking in terror.

“Shit shit shiiiiiiiiiit!!!”

You giggle inanely as Eddie licks Dustin's face wetly. He bounds off him and shoots a wink at you, before lending Dustin a hand and dragging him to his feet.

“I am not… a dog.”

Dustin is laughing in relief, nerves racking through it.

“No you're not, I'm sorry I'm sorry-”

Steve appears in the doorway.

“Guys, get in here.”

All mockery forgotten, you make your way into the living space in silence.

“Steve, what's going on?”

“That's just it. Listen.”

You all stop, ears working in overdrive as you all try to hear what he hears. Breaking the quiet spell that had drifted over everyone, you speak.

“I can't hear anything.”

“Exactly. Don't you get it? All over town, all through the woods, there's been these things. Demogorgons, bats, horrible things. But here, there's nothing.”

“Eddie, you smell anything?”

Eddie closes his eyes, snout wiggling in effort as he opens his preternatural senses. His voice rumbles out in its usual gravelly purr.

“That scent… it's herrre, it's on them… up-side-down smell… therrres nothing close by… except a few deerrr.”

Steve holds a hand up, stage whispering to you.

“He can smell that?”

“Yes… and hearrr acrrross rrrooms.”

“Sorry big guy, I just- that's awesome.”

Dustin is beaming, staring at Eddie like he's a superhero. Steve continues, making sure he's looking at Eddie, you notice, keeping him in the conversation.

“So, if those things aren't nearby… maybe, maybe they're afraid of him? Hate to say it but I'm starting to agree with Dustin. Maybe you're supposed to be like this Munson.”

Sighing in acceptance, you turn to Eddie.

“Fine. If you think you can help you should go. Don't let me stop you. But you have to come back to me.”

He gives you a slow blink, and you nod, accepting fate. Then you move into action, grabbing the partially used trauma kit, along with anything else you think might be helpful. Everyone else is doing the same, as if they were waiting for your approval.

Pretty soon you're being bundled into what appears to be a stolen pick up truck with Eddie sitting in the back, as you race back into town.

If you could call it town anymore.

Your mind rolls to every post apocalyptic movie you've ever seen, but none of them compare to it happening in front of your eyes. Crumbling buildings that you recognise send spears of hurt through your heart. Over there, the gas station where you bought your first underage beers, now a smoking wreckage. On your left, the drug store where you used to pick up your mom's prescription, cracked and half buried in rubble.

A cloud of chattering sound passes quickly overhead; you hear Eddie growling low as batlike creatures wing their way to another destination, seemingly unbothered by your presence. It's either that, or they don't want to tangle with your boyfriend. You pray that it's the latter.

Steve takes a sharp left turn and you fling to the side in your seat.

“I thought we were heading to the library, isn't it that way?”

“Yep, if you wanna cross a gorge. The roads opened so wide that nothing can get through.”

The enormity of the situation is sinking into you, winding around your spine, fear clasping you in its unwanted clutches.

Ignore it. Don't recognise it. Turn your back on it. There's people that need your help.

Steve pulls up a few yards away from the library, and you clench your jaw, telling your tears to fuck right off. Now is not the time for tears.

You and Dustin jump out of the truck, and he rushes to the library to bring everyone who needs to be part of this final stand. A final stand that doesn't involve you. A final stand that has the love of your life sitting front and centre.

Running around to the back of the truck you grab Eddie's head firmly in both your hands.

“You- you remember what I said? You need to come back to me, you hear me? ‘Cause if you don't I'll kill you myself. Get it Eddie? You do this and you come back to me!!”

Eddie holds your hands in his enormous paws, enveloping your soft flesh instantly. Nuzzling his snout against your cheek, he breathes in your ear.

“I'll come back… to what's mmine.”

You press fierce hot kisses to the soft fur of his face, over and over, until he pulls you from him, holding your hands away.

“You love me Eddie. I know you do.”

One slow blink.

In an instant, he's gone, quieter than snow. Falling to the floor, you hold your head in your hands, crushed by the barbarity of the situation.

You didn't say it. You didn't tell him you love him too. Saying it out loud would make it more real. Saying it out loud would make the pain worse if you lose him.

Soft fingers pry at you, leading you onward, inside. In a daze you follow, feet on autopilot as you clutch the trauma bag in front of you like a shield.

Inside is a bustle of activity, a hive of ants that all have a purpose and none of them involve you. You're guided gently down onto a seat and the insects run about, fetching food, water, bandages. It all seems to be happening outside of you, following a rhythm that you can't hear.

“Hey, hey!” One of the swarm seems to be addressing you. Tilting your head, you look towards them. It's an older woman; half her face is concealed by a makeshift eyepatch.

“You're a doctor, right? We need someone over here now!”

Instincts take over. Legs rising of their own accord, they march over to a camp bed that's been set up. Another woman lays there, breaths shallow and humanising. There's an enormous gash in her side.

“OK OK, I can help, just don't move too much, I'll try and stop the bleeding.”

Then the next person. And then, the next person.

Mind floating into a subconscious haze, your memories take over. That situation before at the hospital, the textbook you once studied, a hypothetical conversation with a doctor. You take it, all at once, power beyond what should be possible, but you do it.

You do it for him.

Minutes pass into hours unseen as you tear through every available useful item, every strip of gauze from your bag, until it happens.

A pain so profound that grips your shoulder and your heart hard enough for you to look around for the shotgun. It emanates out of the bitemark, pulsing into your veins with alarming force.

“He's hurt.”

Collapsing to the side, you hold a firm hand to your own heart, as if you could will it to slow. Legs give out from under you, your rear landing on the hard surface behind. For a minute you sit, unable to move, unable to think, wondering why everyone around seems so controlled. Don't they realise your entire universe is shattering into splinters before their very eyes?

There's a hand shaking you by the arm, someone asking if you're OK. They lift you, place you in a seat, and keep asking, and asking. Your tongue feels heavy, unable to form words to explain the hurt you're feeling. This deep hurt is rooted into your bone marrow; heavy, hard and cold.

There's a familiar face in front of you, a round childish face with curling boyish locks and a worried expression. Dustin.

“Hey, you there? Can ya hear me?”

Nodding wordlessly, you point to your chest, directly over your heart, eyes wincing in pain.

“Did you get hurt?”

You shake your head, and manage one word.

“Eddie.”

Before Dustin can respond, Nancy runs in, face covered in grime and dark blood, panting for breath.

“They… did it… Hoppers here with Eleven. The gates are closed. But, Eddie-”

Hearing his name you rush back into your body.

“Where is he?”

“Steve and Jonathan are taking him back to the cabin. He's unconscious. He’s… in a bad way, but he's alive.”

He's alive.

“I need to get to him. Dustin, grab any bandages you can find. Nancy, you got a car?”

She nods and leads you outside. The sky has quietened, no longer flashing in supernatural colours. Looking upward, you can almost believe this is a normal night in Hawkins. Taking in the streets, the truth is far from it.

Three monstrous things lay on the sidewalk, covered in some slimy substance and splattered in unnatural blood. Their skin has a blue grey sheen to it, and their limbs are twisted awkwardly. Their heads seem to have been split open, but then you realise it's just one gigantic mouth, unfurling like a gristly lily. The fleshy petals are lined with dozens of tiny sharp teeth.

You press a toe to one of them nervously. Its head lulls to one side, utterly lifeless.

“Hey I got the band- Holy shit!!”

Dustin's voice cracks mid sentence, then he sighs in relief when he realises the monsters are dead. Nancy calls at you both to hurry and you bundle into the car as she races through the cracked, ruined streets of Hawkins.

The gas station, the shops, town hall, it's all unimportant. What matters is getting to Eddie. You need to save him.

Suddenly a heavy feeling in your chest lifts, but not in comfort. It's as if someone's tugged a weighted blanket off of you, exposing your vulnerability for the world to see. Eddie's presence, once a firm hold coddling your heart, is reduced to a whisper of a thought. Gossamer threads tie you instead of lead ropes that you hadn't even realised were there until they were nearly gone.

“Nancy, we need to hurry, he's almost gone!”

She doesn't question how you know, just presses her foot to the accelerator and bombs through Hawkins and onto the familiar country road. She gets as near as the woods will allow, until you're yanking the door open and continuing on shaky legs, feet pounding at the bracken and tears streaming from the corners of your eyes.

A singular thought races through your mind with each footfall. Save him. Save him. Like a heartbeat.

The cabin starts to appear out of the darkness, the lights inside a beacon of hope. As you reach the front door it flies open, Steve standing in the frame.

His hair is sticking out in every direction; part of it is plastered to his forehead with blood. A bat with nails in it is hanging limply at his side and his clothes are torn. There's gashes in his front, as if gigantic claws had swiped at him. Previously you would have stopped, gaping at his wounds in horror and done anything you could to help, but after everything you've seen tonight they seem almost trivial.

“Is he here?”

Steve takes a deep breath in, swinging the bat at his side as if on instinct.

“He's here, I guess. He was awesome, then- he wasn't him, in the end. He's not said a word after Vecna, then when Mrs- well, he passed out. Just, be careful.”

You nod and shoulder your way through, past a long haired guy with the intense expression who you assume is Jonathan, and into the bedroom.

It's a familiar scene, so much so that it borders on comfort. He's strapped down to the bed, a belt wrapped around his feral maw. His breaths are shallow and wet sounding. A snarling whistle of a snore escapes on each exhale.

His wounds are deep, much deeper than before. There's blood pooling at his side from a gaping wound, it looks like one of those bastard monsters took a bite out of him. That seems the worst damage, that and a bite on his shoulder that almost mirrors your own. You'd laugh at the irony if you weren't so upset. On top of that, there are so many scrapes and claw marks and bruises that it makes your heart ache.

“One of you, come in here and help me.”

Steve appears in the door frame, bat held high as if Eddie were about to pounce.

“Steve, put the bat down. I need your help cleaning these wounds.”

He lowers his arm and moves nearer to you, but doesn't let the bat go.

“I don't think you get it. When Vecna- when he realised he couldn't hurt him, those demogorgons got him. He fought three of them at once and then he… well, he tore Vecna in half. Since then he's not… he was a beast. Tried to attack me and Hopper, until Mrs Byers whacked him over the head, knocked him out cold. I'm not sure he's Eddie, anymore.”

There's a tug at your heart, a spindly web like thread that pulls you to your love.

“He's weak, but he's there. I know it. Help me clean these wounds and bind them before he bleeds out.”

The two of you work in silence, Steve flinching when Eddie stirs, but he doesn't wake up. When the hole in his side is padded with gauze and tightly bound with bandages, you work on the rest. There's just so many injuries, it's a wonder he's still alive and hasn't bled out yet.

When it's done, with Eddie patched and bandaged as well as you know how, you collapse onto the floor, hands on your knees. All you can do is wait for him to wake up. That's if he wakes up. If he wakes up as him, and not some mindless beast.

“Listen, you've done what you can. You're awesome, really.”

Steve's hand grasps yours on top of your knee.

“If he's gonna come back for anyone, he'll come back for you.”

The smile he flashes melts your heart as he gets up to leave. A second later, he returns with a musty blanket and a worn cushion. You take them gratefully and get comfortable on the floor, hoping against hope that your love wakes up.

********************

A roaring growl shatters through your nerves and startles you awake, rocketing through your senses before you have a chance to think. Hot breath blows across your face, messing your hair and making you blink in its turbulence.

Eddie's on all fours on top of you, crouched low and teeth bared, bindings in tatters all about you. The belt is gone from his jaw; you can only assume he managed to break it with sheer force. A dribble of slobber hangs from his maw; for some reason it's all you can focus on. It wobbles in your vision, as you scramble for some way to get through to him.

He barks roughly, snapping his teeth barely an inch from your face.

“N-now, you listen to me, Eddie!”

Your voice squeaks, belying the stern demeanour you're attempting to convey. He growls low, crouching even further over you, giving you an undeniable urge to flee. You can't, not with Eddie on top of you. Not just that, you know deep within your bones that if you attempt to escape, you're dead.

It suddenly dawns on you that it doesn't matter. You could just throw yourself out there and be eaten. Sure, it'd be painful, but since he's hovering right over your jugular it'd probably be quick. Living without him seems far worse. Or, you might just succeed, and live.

There's no time for hesitation and pleasantries. So, you grasp the fur around his maw and clutch it desperately, fingers winding into his pelt. His eyes widen, jaw closing slightly, and you take the opportunity to pull his head closer. Your forehead sits flush with his, searching his eyes for any sign of the Eddie you know.

“Eddie Munson, you listen to me! You know who I am! Can't you smell it? My smell, your smell? You're mine, and I'm yours. You promised you'd come back to me! So do it, come the fuck back to me or I swear I'll kill you myself!”

Releasing one hand, you pull your t-shirt over your shoulder and show him the mark he left you.

“You see this? You know what this is? Remember, Eddie!”

There's a flicker in his hard gaze, a flash of something that just might be your Eddie. Pressing his snout to the mark, he inhales deeply. Then, he's pressing his jaw to yours, nuzzling your neck with his nose. Moving your head to meet his affection, you rub your faces against each other. The tension in the room dissipates as you finally start to see the human behind the beast.

As he pulls his face away, you stare deep in his eyes.

‘I love you Eddie Munson. I knew you'd come back. You had to, because you love me too. Right?”

One slow blink.

Then, he's falling to the floor on his side, seemingly exhausted with the strain. There's no way you'll be able to get him back into the bed, so you throw your blanket around you both and snuggle into his warm pelt before you fall asleep in his arms.

When you finally wake up, he's still asleep breathing heavily through his nose. The breaths sound much better than before, a stark difference from the heavy, wet sound he was making previously.

Every joint hurts from sleeping on the wooden floor. You stretch in place, click your elbows, and glance back down at Eddie.

Even a few hours seems to have helped Eddie with his recovery. The small grazes you didn't bother to cover up are completely healed; just tiny fine lines of scars are all that's left, like the inking of a delicate pen.

You try to stand up but Eddie's heavy paw is resting on your hip, keeping your back flush to his torso.

“Eddie,” you whisper, half ashamed to disturb him, “I need to move, my back hurts.”

One chestnut eye blinks roughly at you then opens, shrivelling from the light pouring through your ad hoc curtains. He's not said a word yet, a fact that is eating your insides up with worry, but you don't mention it.

He pushes himself off of the floor, managing to stand shakily before flopping to the bed. Even this small movement has him exhausted beyond what should be possible.

“Eddie, do you want me to get you something to eat? You know, to help the healing?”

Those soulful deep eyes bore into you, stretching time for just a moment. Then he blinks deliberately at you, twice.

“No? So, what can I do?”

Wordlessly, he holds his arms out. You crawl into his embrace as he clutches you to his chest tightly, as if he's scared you'll run away. You couldn't though. Not now, not ever.

********************

After a few hours, he's breathing deeply, and you risk moving to the living space. Once you enter you see Steve and Jonathan there. Nancy climbs out of an armchair and makes her way towards the group, diplomatically standing exactly between them.

“We didn't want to disturb. How's he doing?”

Nancy's soft voice breaks the quiet and you allow her a small smile.

“Great. I mean, he's healing like crazy, seems to be something he can do, and he remembers me for sure. He's not spoken yet, but give him time.”

She beams at you, then flashes a thousand watt smile at Steve. Shaking her head slightly, apparently at her own actions, she grabs Jonathan's hand and gives it a squeeze. You don't miss the slight frown that flickers on Steve's face, or the little wanton appraising look he gives Jonathan. It's funny, viewing something from an outsider's perspective. They're the perfect little threesone and they don't seem to even know it.

There's a stirring noise from the bedroom and you run immediately toward it. Eddie's sitting up in bed; it looks like he's trying to inspect the hole in his side with clumsy fingers.

“Hey, it's OK Eddie, don't touch it. I'm gonna look after you, alright?”

A flicker of relief passes across his face and he settles down into the mattress, placated.

You inspect the wound; his recovery is remarkable but there's still a way to go before it's healed. By rights he shouldn't be breathing at all.

“It looks good, it'll take a while to heal completely but I think you're gonna be alright.”

A large hand reaches tentatively to your face and cups it, shaking slightly with the effort. His face scrunches, an internal pain crossing it that seems too much to bear. Then, words emerge.

“...love… you.”

Instantly welling with tears, you cup his hand in your own.

“I love you too Eddie. Now sleep, you need to rest. I'll bring you some water, and some food in a while to get your strength back up.”

He blinks slowly at you, then settles his head back into the mattress, palm dropping from your cheek almost instantly as he falls asleep. You take the cushion from the floor and anchor his head up, slipping it underneath so he doesn't strain his neck.

Staring at him for a moment looking so peaceful makes your eyes well. Wiping furiously at your face, you disperse the tears and turn towards the doorway.

“You alright?”

Steve's standing there, thankfully no longer holding a bat. You nod and walk out of the room with him, after a final glance at Eddie's sleeping form.

********************

Now the danger has passed, the rest of them leave to go get some much needed sleep. The snippets you've been told about the battle for Hawkins sounded bloody and taxing, they all need to recuperate.

When Eddie starts eating you breathe another sigh of relief. It's a good sign. He seems to be having trouble again with picking things up and using words but it's getting better by the hour.

Collecting a bucket from outside, you fill it with warm water and grab some soap and a washcloth from the bathroom, then take it to the bedroom. Eddie's sitting up in bed, having just finished a whole chicken. He's licking juices from his furred fingers when you walk in.

“Hey, that good? Want any more?”

“Good… forrr now.”

You smile at him and waddle over with the heavy bucket. Placing it on the ground with a heavy thud, you soak the cloth and add some soap to it.

“What… doing?”

“Oh, well you've got too many bandages on for me to clean you in the tub, so I thought I'd wash you in here, if that's alright.”

Flashing his teeth in the epitome of a wolfish grin, he purrs out a response as he whips off the blanket covering him.

“Hot nurrrse…. Giving me… sponge bath? Yess please!”

You roll your eyes but you're smiling as you do it, and help him wriggle out of his sweatpants. He's naked, cock already kicking up with your proximity.

“This isn't about that, Eddie!”

“-Orry.”

“And don't just drop your s'es to be cute, I know you can say them!”

He gently grasps your hand in his and you melt just a little.

You start cleaning him as best as you can, tenderly mopping in between the bandages, taking care to remove as much of the crusted blood and grime as possible.

As you work, you feel his furred finger curl under your chin, guiding you to look at him.

“Eddie?”

“You… rrreally carrrre about… mme, don't you?”

Trying to move out of his grip shyly, he holds your chin firmly waiting for your reply.

“I mean, yes, of course. I told you Eddie, I love you.”

Damp fingers twine in his thick burly hand. His eyes are on you but seeing through you, deep in thought. You squeeze his fingers in encouragement.

“What's on your mind, Eddie?”

He huffs a laugh, shaking his head.

“It's stu-pid… I just thought… when it all ended… when gate closed… I'd go back… be norrrmal.”

Emotion floods those brandy hued eyes, you force a lump in your throat to go away.

“Eddie, you've never been normal,” you say, smiling at him, whilst he growls a little chuckle in his throat, “but that's not a bad thing. You're different Eddie. You've always been different. You're odd, and funny, and intense. I love you, and not in spite of those things. Because of them. Because you're you.”

Eddie roughly rubs a hand over his eyes to disguise the tears.

“Love you… what the fuck… did I do… to deserrrve you.”

“Don't know, but it must have been pretty awesome.”

You smile as you finish cleaning him, drying him off as best as you can, and let him get more rest. It seems each time he naps his healing quickens exponentially, so you encouraged as many as you could.

It was late evening by the time you saw him again. You had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the TV, curled up wearing Eddie's black t-shirt and nothing else, with a cushion between your knees for comfort.

There was warm pressure just on the inside of your thigh, a heaviness that for some reason made you feel safe.

Cracking one eye open, you see Eddie is sitting on the floor facing you, his furred cheek resting on your leg. His snout is just breaching the hem of the t-shirt, dangerously close to your heat.

“Eddie, what are you doing?”

He takes a deep breath in and your cheeks flood with embarrassment.

“I miss-ed you… miss-ed this.”

“We can't, like, do anything Eddie, not until you're healed.”

Lifting his head up, he points wordlessly to his side. The bandage has been removed. Amazingly, it's knotted scar tissue; a few tufts of fur are growing on it already. In a few days you'd be surprised if you could even tell the near life threatening blow had even happened.

“Wow, thats- fuck, that's incredible. You're amazing!”

He makes a little satisfied noise at the praise and sits up, towering over you on the sofa.

“So… arrre we good? Forrr… a little game?”

Tilting your head, you mockingly appraise him, looking him up and down and checking each knot of scars.

“Well… seems I can give you the all clear. What did you have in mind?”

Opening his maw, he flicks his tongue over his teeth, and stares at you hungrily.

“I've got… an i-dea.”

He stands up and pulls you to your feet, reminding you again of the sheer size of him, and wordlessly leads you to the back door.

When you're outside, the lack of noise really strikes you. There's not a sound in the woods. An eerie quiet washes over you, making each breath, each heartbeat all the louder. The air is crisp, but not freezing. It nips at your bare legs, trailing goosebumps up your thighs. You look up at the sky; a beautiful array of shining stars fill it, and the moon provides a little light so you can make out the dark shadow of trees about you. It's ethereal and beautiful.

“It's really pretty Eddie, but what's this got to do with a game?”

He stands just behind you, firmly grabbing you by your hips as he bends to speak in your ear.

“We'rrre tied… in ourrr little chases… thought we could…”

“Out here? In the dark? Eddie what if theres-”

“Nothings herrre… animals fled frrrom the monsterrrs… can smell. It's just you… and mme.”

The thought sends a little shiver down your spine, pins and needles rushing from the base of your neck.

“You like the… i-dea. Can tell.”

You curse your own body for betraying you, but he's absolutely right. You're already wet just thinking about it and it's starting to dampen your thighs. A heat floods through you, making you forget about the cold.

“OK… say I'm interested, what are the rules?”

“Two minutes head starrrt… then, when I catch you…” He playfully licks the shell of your ear, “I can do… whateverrr I want.”

“Within reason?” You say, voice already shaking.

“Within… rrreason.”

“Five minutes.”

“Thrrrree.”

“Done.”

Immediately you tear away from his grasp and run, giving him no time to think about it. The forest floor is surprisingly soft under your bare feet, a carpet of pine needles allowing you to run comfortably, unhindered.

Your ears are occupied by the sound of your own beating heart. It's pumping wildly in your chest, pure adrenaline coursing through your veins, making each decision. You zig zag, double back a little, and turn in a circle, to try and throw him off the scent. A part of you wishes there was a river nearby to help confuse the trail further. Then again, most of you is glad there isn't. It's not like you don't want to be caught.

A fallen branch makes you trip and you sprawl unseen in the dark. The rush is still there, but you try to be more careful and take a little time looking for anything on the ground that could harm you. Squinting in the dark, you make out a huge stone in front of you which could have seriously injured you. Skirting around it, there's a copse of close together trees to one side. Then, there's an alrighty roar.

He sounds so close, you must have made less progress than you thought. Dashing for the trees, you enter a little circle of pines and press your back against one panting for breath. You can hear him now. It sounds like he's galloping through the forest on all fours, crashing through branches and twigs like a hot knife through butter.

You daren’t move, you daren’t breathe. This close there's no chance he won't hear you. Thighs clenching so hard you're in danger of losing blood flow, you feel your slick covering them, nearly slipping apart because of it. It's uncanny; you don't know why your body seems to have this visceral reaction to his presence, but really you don't need to know. All you know is that this feels so right, so natural for you, that it's accepted without hesitation.

The absence of noise is what makes you jump. One minute there's crashing and breaking branches; the next, silence. You grip onto the rough bark, fingers white knuckling in fervent anticipation.

You hear him then, soft footfalls crunching and sniffing noises. Keeping your back pressed firmly against the tree trunk, you try to breathe as quietly as you can. Each second that goes by feels like it stretches on for an eternity, as you hear him get closer and closer… and then walk past behind you. Breath leaving you in a gasp, you relax your muscles slightly.

Until he's directly in front of you, completely naked, the sheer weight of him pressed up against you as he pins both your arms by your sides. His cock is throbbing against your stomach, huge and painfully hard. Bending his head to your level, his snout nudges your ear.

“I win… you’rrre mmine.”

He nips at your neck, his sharp teeth breaking the skin. Pain blossoms out from the mark, but it's followed by a wave of pleasure that sends another wash of wetness out of you.

Eddie growls so deeply that you shiver, and suddenly your world is shooting upward as he grasps you firmly by the ass and lifts you up, your t-shirt riding up to your chest. The hard bark of the tree is pressing into your naked skin as he holds you there like a play thing, claws digging in your flesh. His tongue laps through your folds, tasting you with such ferocity that it makes you moan wantonly, your nails scraping into his scalp, hanging on for dear life.

Cloying heat is surrounding you, suffocating you. You pull the shirt over your head and toss it in a vain attempt to get some relief but it's no use. Eddie's tongue is buried inside your tight cunt, a dizzying tornado that's making your head spin, but you need more.

“Fuck- please Eddie, I-I need- oh God- I need you inside me.”

He lifts your back off of the tree, then slams your spine against the rough wood, expelling all breath from your lungs. He's shaking his head back and forth, long snout rubbing over your clit. A hard no, but it's setting fireworks off inside you all the same. He lets up for a moment, just one, rumbling out words so close to your pussy you feel the warm air of his breath and the vibration of it on your clit.

“You want me… so bad… then fuckin’ cum. Now.”

His thumb breaching your weeping sex is a complete surprise. It's just so thick; moving inside you with such animalistic intensity that you're clenching and coming with an obscene scream directed at the heavens. You crumble to ash and dust within his very clutches, the smouldering fire flaming bright and burning all of you, inside and out.

There's no time to recover, to breathe. He slides you down the tree trunk and onto his waiting member, forcing it inside with barely any warning. Tears spring from the corners of your eyes as he forcibly lifts you by your hips and slams you back down, over and over, his powerful thrusts pulling whimpers out of you. You're just so full, his swollen length pulsing inside, throbbing you to ecstasy.

The strings tighten inside you, firming the pressure in your belly, which suddenly snaps, dissolving into an intense wave of pleasure that gushes from your hole and threatens to push him out due to its violence. He shudders with you, holding you close and grinding into you, helping you ride it out with almost gentle movements that bely the ferality he displayed only moments ago. Your foreheads touch softly, breaths in tandem.

For a second you think he's finished. You couldn't be further from the truth. His voice is strained, as if he's trying to keep it under control.

“You… do that… again.”

Before you can blink his knuckles are dragging harshly over your clit, back and forth, sending a shiver through your spine on each rough pass.

“Eddie- oh holy- oh fuuuck!”

You're barely able to speak, to think. Sentences fail to form, in fact your bordering on drooling at the way he's fucking you dumb. In moments you're clenching around him, walls fluttering uncontrollably as you sob out another release, muscles contracting involuntarily and quivering all over your body. After a while, you realise you're weeping, tears streaming with no barriers to stop them.

It still doesn't stop Eddie and his violent conquest over your form. He seems intent on owning you, ruining you, taking every last ounce of pleasure out of you to leave you a shattered blubbering mess. It's as if he needs to get his pain and anguish out; it's pouring from him and into each movement of his hips.

“Again.”

Sobs are bubbling out of your mouth, wet and round, spit gathering at the corners.

“Eddie, I- I can't-”

“Again!”

Then he's pinching your clit hard between thumb and forefinger, as his teeth nip at your breast. The overbearing pain and the zealous pleasure are too much. Shamefully, you release yet again, slick running down your legs and onto the forest floor in a sticky web.

It's only then that he holds you close, hard arms snaking around your back as your legs shake wildly either side of his hips. His bearish hands grasp you tightly as he throbs his own messy climax deep inside you, roaring loudly, pulsing and pulsing until you've milked him dry. Even then he remains, hard and swollen, locked in and unable to separate.

His touch is far more gentle now, lifting you by the hips as if you are to be cherished and placing your back softly to the pine needle covered ground. He hovers over you, almost in fear of breaking you, one rough hand stroking at the delicate skin of your cheek. Staring into his eyes, you see the shame harbouring within them.

Before he can speak, you're grasping his furred cheeks and holding his gaze.

“Eddie, it's OK, honestly. I mean, it was a little rough… but fuck me… that was amazing. You're amazing.”

He nuzzles into you, deeply breathing in your smell as he cuddles you in the softest embrace.

“-Orry.”

“You trying to be cute with me again, Eddie Munson?”

Your stern words just earn you another squeeze, a slightly tighter hold from his firm arms. For a while you lay there, feeling the other's heartbeat and listening to nothing but the wind between the trees.

It takes a bit, but the knot finally subsides and you are able to extricate yourselves from its hold. As soon as Eddie's comforting arms are no longer around you, you start to shiver massively.

“Need.. get you home… climb on.”

He's on all fours, crouching low in front of you like a tamed lion.

“You've got to be fucking kidding me.”

There's a soft rumble in his throat that almost sounds like laughter.

“Get on… beforrrre you frrreeze.”

You can't really argue with that.

Hesitating with your knee up high, you're trying to work out where you need to be. You've never ridden a… a wolf? A lion? A monster? Briefly, you think you've never ridden an Eddie, but you blush profusely when you remember that's simply not true.

Finally deciding on swinging your leg over near his waist at the thinnest part of him, you settle into the soft fur. He swings a paw up and grasps your hand, leading it toward the longer hair down his spine.

“Might want… to hold on… sweet-hearrrt.”

You twine your fingers delicately into the thicker part of his pelt. That is, until he starts running on all fours through the trees. You grip tightly when you feel the sudden rush of speed, fingers losing blood as you hold on in fear of crashing to the floor.

Once the initial shock is over, it's electrifying; a thrilling, hedonistic mix of riding a horse and a motorcycle at once. The wind whips through your hair and stings your uncovered skin, making you feel oh so alive. The constant push and pull of powerful muscles beneath you make you realise just how strong Eddie is. It suddenly dawns on you that no matter how rough he's been with you, he's holding back. If he showed you half his power you doubt you'd live to tell the tale. That stark realisation has you falling for him all over again.

It's that power that seems to flow up from him and through you. You feel like some sort of heathen queen, riding through the forest on your monstrous steed, naked as the day you were born. Wild, savage, and formidable.

Too soon, your impromptu ride is over as he lopes toward the lights of the cabin, eventually coming to a stop. Sliding off of his mighty form, you land on both feet practically buzzing with excitement, caring not a jot for the fact that you were still naked.

“Eddie, that was incredible! We need to do that again, like, every night. Fuck, I'm shaking!”

You beam at him, glowing inside and out.

“If anyone else… said that… I'd bite them. But… it's you. I'll be you’rrre… steed.”

“You just want me to ride you again.”

In the short time you've been together, you've gotten used to the subtle signs in his face, in the looks in his eyes, enough to be able to read him. You don't need any of those though, not when his usual whiskey eyes are blackened with desire.

“You… not done?”

Grinning profusely, you open the back door and beckon him with your finger.

“Nope.”

“You… animal.”

You laugh; a messy, loud, belly laugh at the pure irony of the situation.

Walking into the bedroom, you watch him follow you in. There's pine needles stuck in his fur, and mud crusted into his hands and feet. The very air surrounding him is of forests; of damp and bark and moonlight.

All it's doing is stirring up your insides further. Right now, this heathen queen needs her monster king.

“Lay down.”

He huffs lowly, towering over your tiny form.

“You… telling mme… what to do?”

“Yes. I am. You got a problem?”

You push lightly at his chest, making him collapse mockingly onto the bed, face twisted in taunting pain, as if you had caused him serious harm.

“Don't… hurrrrt mme, prrrincess.”

“I wasn't going to… hurt you, exactly.”

You straddle his body, backwards, mouth hovering near his already firm length as your ass swings tantalisingly just out of reach of his drooling maw.

“Now…. Sweet-hearrrrt, fuuuck… so unfairrr…”

You can feel the breath expelling from his mouth, the way the sweep of his tongue creates air that is failing to make it between your folds. It makes your cunt throb from the lack of attention, still puffy and drooling from your encounter in the woods.

You lick a firm stripe from his heavy balls to the tip of his engorged purple member, watching it shiver with the affection. There's a salty, brutish taste to him, mixed with the sweet, feminine tang of you, that makes you want to lick him over and over. Rolling the tip of his weighty length into your mouth, you roll it around with your tongue, licking any trace of you and him together away, to be stored in your memories forever.

“Sweet-hearrrt… please!”

He's panting, each short breath firing bursts of air at your cunt. You don't let up, not yet, suckling at his tip, pressing firm kisses to the slit on the tip. He's growling and whining, muscles twitching all over.

There's no way you can take more than a third of his threatening member into your mouth, but you do what you can, stroking firmly with both hands what you cannot take. Spit dribbles out of your mouth and down to your fisted palms, wetting the rest of his length with soaked, messy need.

He roars, lion-like behind you, fingers pressing further bruises into your soft flesh. You don't let up, you can't. You need to make him tremble beneath you; to feel those controlling muscles fold under the feel of your mouth.

The thrust up into your wet lips has you gagging around his length, gargling and spluttering around his thick head. You can't chide him for it, not since the movement sets your insides ablaze with need.

He curls as hard as his spine will allow; the tip of his tongue ghosting over your slick heat. Quivering, you let up on your assault with your mouth, and twist so you can face him. Whines and whimpers expel from his throat as his thick fingers wind around your waist. Before they can contort into growls and snarls, you sink down onto his slippery cock, all the way to the hilt, as if he were the perfect sword to your tight sheath.

“Lay back and relax… There's a good boy.”

Instead of taking control, he gives it to you. A whine, high pitched and needy, rolls out of his mouth.

Bending down, with him still flush inside you, you press your pretty lips against his slathered maw. Open mouthed kisses are pressed onto his jaw, tongue sneaking in and feeling his pointed fangs delicately. He licks purposely into your mouth, dancing against your tensed muscle.

Grinding hard into him, his solid weapon presses harshly against your g spot, stars forming in the corners of your eyes. He sits up so he can lace his thick arms around you, as if he needed to be even closer somehow. Responding in kind, you position your legs around him, holding tight as he thrusts up into you.

Sweat is glistening, dripping down your spine at the proximity of his boiling hot body. Your fingers wind into the thicker fur on his spine as he rocks into you, feeling him in your very core.

Suddenly he's grasping your hips, about to pull you off him. Whining, you shake your head, forcing yourself back down.

“I'mm gonna-”

“I know, please, I need to feel it, fill me up, please!”

Those words are all it takes for Eddie, pushing him over that precipice, free falling into ecstasy. You join him, plummeting into your own release as the feel of his knot consumes you.

For a while you hold each other, the only clue that time had failed to stop being your panting breaths. Your head is snuggled into the soft coat of his neck, his chin resting on the top of your head. As his hardness finally begins to subside you still remain, the sanctitude of the moment ongoing. It feels as if it will be an ongoing memory to play on a loop in the back of your mind, forever.

********************

The following two weeks flew by in a hum buzz of activity. You're pulling shift after shift at the hospital and helping out at the emergency shelter when you can. The town is pulling together, trying to heal and coming to terms with what will forever be a little bit broken.

Eddie's mood has been in a shifting, unstable state since the night he defeated Vecna. The nightmares were the worst part of it; on more than one occasion you've had to physically hit him to get him to wake up and stop thrashing in panic on the bed. You try to soothe with words, soft touches and kindness. It's helping, but you know he's got a long way to go.

Being busy has helped. He and Hopper have come to form an odd friendship. To his credit, Hopper never treated Eddie any different despite his appearance. In fact, he said he's one of ‘Hawkins’ finest upstanding citizens’, since he can't go out and cause trouble. It's not like he can be the town's weed supplier, after all.

Eddie needed something to do. Hopper understood that deeply, he explained, from his own past traumas and grief. So, he started towing cars to the cabin, getting Eddie to fix them up and send them back as an impromptu mechanic. Fixing things and earning a little money have certainly improved his mood. When he wasn't doing that he was working on the cabin which was starting to feel like home.

You're on your way there right now. After the conversation you had with Hopper this morning, a huge smile is glued to your face.

Approaching your home, you see Eddie outside working on a car. When he sees you he bounds over, grabbing the two enormous suitcases you've been struggling with and lifting them with ease.

“What's all… this?”

“Take them inside, I've got some news.”

He does as you ask, depositing them on the floor before he holds you close, snout breathing in your scent at the crook of your neck.

“Eddie, I spoke with Hopper. He's agreed to give us the cabin for nothing. I just gave away my apartment, so I can stay here with you.”

Eddie barks with delight, picking you up and spinning you around. You giggle, holding onto his shoulders. He presses his maw to your tummy, breathing you in.

When he puts you down on the floor, there's a queer look in his eye.

“Eddie, something wrong?”

Shaking his head, he falls to his knees so he can look you in the eyes as he holds both your hands in one enormous paw.

“Not wrrrong… differrrrent. We'll need the cabin, forrr all of us.”

You tilt your head, confused.

“What do you mean? There's only me and you.”

Staring at you as if to gauge your reaction, he presses one bearish hand to your stomach reverently. The hint isn't lost on you, eyes widening in disbelief.

“Eddie, are you saying that you think I'm… pregnant?”

One slow blink.

Legs wobbling, you sit on the floor in front of him.

“I'm on birth control, I mean, surely I can't be… are you sure?”

Eddie taps his nose.

“I'm sure. Is it… a prrroblemm?”

Searching your thoughts you realise it isn't. It really isn't. There's nothing you want more than to spend your life with him, to have a family, no matter what that looks like.

“No, not at all. It's a little… fast, but I want this.”

Holding your cheek with his rough hand, he makes sure you keep your eyes trained on him.

“Are you surrre? What… if it's…”

He gestures to himself, in all his monstrous glory. Cupping his hand on your face, you shake your head.

“I don't care if we have a baby, or a-a cub, or a pup, as long as it's yours and mine.”

He holds you then, softly and close as you twine your fingers into his thick pelt.

A life lies before you, one that you couldn't have possibly predicted. A fairytale life; one where the monster gets the girl, and gets the happily ever after.

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