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hippiegoth97 · 1 day

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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 11

Collage by me :)

Master List

Part 10

Tag List: @rafescurtainbangz @voyeurmunson @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @mediocredreams

@slowandsteddie @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @babygorewhore

@rattkween86 @violetpixiedust @bimbobaggins69 @purplehazed-h @morning-rituals

@eddie-van-munson @msgexymunson @munsoneightysixx @impmunson @mysticalstar30

@jenniquinn @oneforthemunny @succubusmunson @ddeadly-succubus @prettyboyeddiemunson

@sanctumdemunson @stalactitekilla @s6raphic @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne

@ohmeg @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

@costellation-hunter @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @yourdailymemedelivery @spacedoutdaydreamer

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, tobacco/alcohol references, vomit, illness, anxiety, intense anger, crying, arguing, meltdown, parental issues/resentment, mentions of death, angst, teasing, smut, handjob, intimate kissing, sexual frustration

Word Count: 15.1k

Divider by @strangergraphics

Part 11.1: Here Comes The Rain Again

Saturday, April 8th, 1989

You wake up the next morning, head absolutely pounding. You groan at the sun shining in through the window, rolling over to snuggle against Eddie. But you realize he's not lying next to you. You hear him outside of the van and the back door is sitting open. "Eds?" You call him, realizing you're hearing him make some strange noises. You crawl over to the door, and see Eddie vomiting onto the ground. "Oh, baby." You coo sympathetically, hopping out to help him. You walk over, putting a comforting hand on his back as he's bent over. He would speak, but his stomach has other ideas. He throws up again, violently painting the ground with the wine and sandwich he had last night. He's trembling, coated in sweat as he's standing in his underwear. "It's alright, let it out. I'm right here." You try your best to soothe him, there's not much else that can be done until he stops puking.

He finishes a couple minutes later, turning to lean against the side of the van. He's very pale, looking like he might pass out. He smiles weakly at you, wiping his mouth. "Sorry, angel. I can't imagine that's very attractive to look at. It seems whatever Wayne's got has passed on to me. I feel like absolute death right now."

"You sure you're not just hung over? We did get pretty drunk." You step closer to him, pressing your lips to his forehead. He's burning up, definitely not a hangover. "You've got a fever, Eddie. We gotta get you home and into bed, okay?"

"’Kay, I think you're gonna have to drive though. I'm seeing two of you right now, so that can't be good." He chuckles wryly, trying to steady his dizzied head.

"Oh, Eds." You tut at him, helping him sit down in the open doorway for a moment while you gather his clothes. You hardly think you can take him home only in his boxers, you doubt Wayne would like to see that. You grab his pants, shimmying them onto his trembling legs. You don't bother with the shoes, but you help him put his shirt back on, doing up most of the buttons. Eddie abruptly pushes you backwards, which you find odd. That is, until you see him bend over to throw up again. You let him be, shimmying back into your dress and slipping your heels off. You also sort out the mess of items you hastily bundled up in the plaid blanket last night. You don't want anything to get broken while you drive him home.

"God, I swear my stomach is turning inside out." Eddie whimpers, and your heart sinks. You hate to see him like this, you wish you could make it all go away. But, he's been there for you when you've been sick, and now it's your turn to take care of him.

"I know, love. Let's get you in the van, okay?" You say softly. He nods, and you sling his arm over your shoulder and walk him to the passenger side. It's a bit difficult, you're not used to carrying his weight like this. You soldier on, for his sake. You open the door and he slides into the seat, slumping miserably against the worn leather. You close the door, quickly going to the driver's side. You hop in, pulling your door shut. You turn the key to start up the engine, when you realize you've never driven such a big vehicle before. Hell, you've barely driven your mom's car since she uses it for work.

"You okay, angel?" Eddie asks, noticing your uncertainty. You meet his gaze, nodding quickly.

"Yeah, I've just never driven something so big before. But I gotta get you home, so now is as good a time as ever to learn I guess." You sigh, before continuing. "You might wanna put your seatbelt on." He does as you ask, wincing with every move. His muscles ache terribly, and he can't stop shaking.

"Just please don't get us killed, that's all I ask. Although, the plague currently ravaging my goddamn insides might do that anyways." He groans, clutching his stomach helplessly. He rolls down the window in case he needs to throw up again. He's pretty sure your driving won't help the situation.

"I won't. Okay...here we go." You shift gears, looking as best you can behind you as you reverse onto the gravel road. You press your stocking-clad foot to the gas, you've never driven without shoes before, either. You manage to pull it off, so far so good. You put it in drive, taking things slow as you roll down the path to make your way to the trailer park. You would try to talk to Eddie like you always do on your drives. Given his current state, and your uneasiness behind the wheel, it's probably best to keep things quiet. You feel Eddie's clammy hand on your thigh, throwing him a quick glance.

"I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm sure this isn't how you expected the morning to go. I had so much more I wanted to do with you today." His eyes are so sad, he's practically in tears in his illness-induced delirium. He feels awful for ruining the remainder of your anniversary, and he plans to make it up to you any way he can.

"Baby, it's okay. It's not your fault. You can't control when you're sick. We can do everything you want and more once you're better. But right now, all I want is to get you tucked into bed and take care of you." Your hand briefly leaves the steering wheel to lay over his. This proves to be a mistake, though, as you swerve a little bit on the road. "Shit." You grab full hold of it again, and Eddie lunges to the right to put his head out the window to vomit. "Sorry, that was stupid of me." You wince, the sound of his stomach emptying itself is doing nothing for your hangover. You hold back a gag, keeping yourself together until you can get him home.

You're hoping you don't get whatever Eddie has. You've got finals this week and you can't afford to miss them. Besides a splitting headache and post-drunk queasiness, you feel absolutely fine. You don't usually get sick. Whenever the flu or colds spread through school or home, they almost always skip over you. Or, at worst you'll feel a bit oogy for a day or two. Eddie spits the remaining bile from his mouth, wiping it with the back of his hand. "Fuck, I really hope you don't get this. I'm also sorry for potentially infecting you." He slouches in his seat again, keeping his eyes shut as the trees passing by are making him even more dizzy. Every bump and turn on the road isn't exactly helping either.

"I'll be okay either way, Eddie. Don't worry about that right now." You reassure him, focusing on the road ahead. A little bit later, you pull up to his trailer. You hop out, running to his door to help him. There's some vomit on the handle, but you can't be bothered to care about that. You just quickly pull the door open, assisting Eddie to make your way inside. He shivers uncontrollably, to him it's like the world is made of ice. You walk up the steps and in through the front door, finding Wayne laid up on the couch watching TV. He notices you struggling to walk with Eddie leaning against you, getting up to help.

"What happened?" He asks as worry laces his voice. He can pretty much guess what’s going on, due to the greenish hue of his nephew’s face.

"He's very sick, Wayne. Woke up to him puking his guts out a little bit ago." You explain, letting him assist you to lead your poor boyfriend to bed.

"Ugh, please don't say 'puke'." Eddie groans, the mere mention of such a thing makes him want to ralph. His eyes widen, realizing it's going to happen again. "Bathroom. Now." He whimpers, and you two quickly get him there just in time. You're surprised there's still something in him to be let out, but he sure seems to be unleashing absolute hell in the toilet. Which reminds you, you're not exactly doing so hot after drinking heavily last night. You push past Wayne, running down the hall to the kitchen. He calls after you, wondering if you're alright. But you can't speak, the only thing coming out of your mouth right now is last night's dinner. You locate the trash can, dropping to your knees as your own stomach rejects its contents. You hear footsteps coming towards you, heavier than Eddie's. Wayne kneels beside you, stroking your back.

"You gonna be alright, kiddo?" He asks, thankful he's passed on from the vomit stage of his illness. He hates to see you two in such a state, he knows you had plans to spend a romantic night and next day together. He mentally curses his dumbass coworker, Kevin, who spread his fuckin' pestilence through the whole damn plant. Everyone has been out at least once this week, and some have even ended up in the ER from being so ill. And now he's given it to Eddie, and possibly you, too.

"I'm alright. I had too much to drink last night, I'm fine otherwise. But Eddie’s in pretty bad shape." You reply once you've finished, sitting back against the kitchen cabinets. You feel a little better now, actually. However, a glass of water and some Tylenol certainly wouldn’t hurt.

"Well, I'm glad you're alright. Mostly." He chuckles, helping you stand. He gets a couple glasses from the cabinet, filling them with water from the tap. He also retrieves a bottle of aspirin for you, setting one glass along with the pills beside you. "Here, I figure that'll help. I'll warn ya, it might taste a bit metallic. It won't hurt ya, I drink the stuff just fine."

"Thanks, Wayne." You happily accept the water, popping a couple pills into your mouth before chugging the whole glass.

"You wanna take this to him? I think he’d prefer you over me." He hands you the other cup, and you nod as you take it in your grasp. You walk back down the hall, finding Eddie laying in the fetal position on the tile floor. He's whining helplessly, squirming like an electrified worm.

You sit down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. He opens his eyes, looking at you hopelessly. "Baby, let me help you sit up, okay?" Eddie nods through his tremors, letting you position him upright against the bathtub. You bring the glass to his lips, holding it for him so he doesn't spill. "Open, you need to hydrate." You kindly instruct. He listens, apprehensively allowing you to tip the glass so a little water flows into his mouth. He swallows, the cool liquid refreshing his senses. You set the glass down, not wanting to give him too much at once. "Let's get you to bed."

"Okay." Eddie answers weakly, putting his arm around your shoulder once more. You manage to get him to his room, sitting him on the edge of the bed. You go back to the other room to retrieve his water, setting it on the bedside table. You help him out of his clothes, finding some clean underwear and pajamas to dress him in instead. You notice vomit in his nice shirt, and make a note to do a load of laundry for him while you're here.

You hear the phone ring in the living room, and Wayne picks up. After a moment, he calls to you. "Y/N, it's your mother callin'."

"Stay right here, baby. I'll be right back." You give Eddie a kiss on the cheek, leaving once more, closing the door behind you. You jog down the hall, taking the phone from Wayne's hand. "Thanks." You say to him briefly, putting the phone to your ear. "Hey, Mom."

"Sugarpuff, are you alright? I know you were spending the night with Eddie, but I just wanted to check in." She sounds worried again, like something else might be going on.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Well, Eddie's sick today and I'm gonna take care of him. I'll need a ride later tonight, if that's okay." You reply, wondering what could be the problem on her end. She knew where you'd be, and she knows you're cautious and have Eddie to protect you.

"That's fine, sweetie. There's something else, though." The tone in her voice is freaking you out, setting off alarm bells inside your head.

"What is it?" You contemplate a million possibilities, but you can't think of anything outside of your unrealistic anxious fantasies.

"It's your father, Y/N. He's...he's dead, honey." Your breath catches in your throat at this news, though you're not sure how you feel about it. You don't feel sad, nor really shocked, either. You haven't seen him in almost ten years, does it really matter that he’s dead? He decided long ago that you don't matter enough to call, or visit, or even send a damn birthday card to. So, why would it matter to you that he's gone? You've made your peace with it, at least you thought so. As far you're concerned, you haven't had a living father in a decade. "Y/N? Sweetie?" You hear Mom trying to regain your attention.

"Sorry, I just don't really know...what to say. How do you know this, anyway?" You ask curiously. Dad’s done a pretty good job of hiding himself away, moving across the country and leaving no forwarding address or phone number.

"Well...Angie called me. She said he died in a car accident, and she wants to have the funeral here. She also wants their kids to meet you and Dusty." She replies apprehensively. You scoff at the idea, rolling your eyes. Of course, daddy bites the dust and his whore wants you to meet his new rugrats. No fucking thank you.

"And what did you say? I'd hope you told them to fuck off." You can feel yourself becoming overwhelmingly angry. How dare these fucking people that stole your dad away from you have the goddamn nerve to ask for such a favor? You don't care who these stupid people are, they are NOT your family.

"Sugarpuff! Language! I said it would be fine, they'll be in town anyway. Everyone knows Angie, and what happened with her and George. We might as well play nice and try to make the best of it." Mom doesn't exactly sound thrilled by the idea, but you can't believe she would ever agree to this.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me! Play nice! I'd rather lick the bottom of Lover's Lake than make nice with that whore and her stupid offspring! You do what you want, but I am NOT going to that bastard's funeral. And I'm certainly not going to entertain this bullshit idea of a 'family'. HE gave up on us, Mom! HE walked away and never looked back! So HE can have his new family mourn him, I want NO PART IN IT!" You can't believe the words coming out of your mouth right now, you've never spoken to your mother in such a way before. Anger is coursing through you viciously, you just can't stop yourself. You decide to hang up before she can respond. You don't want to deal with this right now. You slam the phone back onto the receiver, the dinging noise ringing in your ears.

"Jesus." Wayne looks at you with wide eyes, unable to believe you'd use such foul language towards your mother like that. He's about to try to talk to you about it, but you just put a hand up to stop him.

"Save it, okay? I mean no disrespect, but I really just want to focus on Eddie right now. I'm sure I'll get an earful later." Your nostrils flare as you practically stomp your way back down the hallway to Eddie's room. You shut the door, careful not to slam it as you're sure his uncle really won't appreciate that.

"You alright, princess? I heard you shouting." Eddie looks at you cautiously, noticing your knitted brows and impossibly reddened face. You're absolutely pissed, even more so than the time you two fought about Chrissy. You pace back and forth on the small amount of floorspace he has, trying to get yourself to calm down. But you can't, no matter how hard you try.

You just see George's stupid face, glancing at you with no expression, as he packs his suitcases into his car before driving off, never to be seen again. No hug, no kiss, not even the words 'good-bye' pass his lips. You see the movers taking half the furniture away to the new home he bought with his whore a week later. You see Mom crying on the floor where the old couch used to be, wedding photos spread across the carpet in absolute tatters as she shreds them with the scissors from the kitchen drawer. You see little Dustin at nine years old, sobbing in his Star Wars pajamas for his daddy, begging to know when he'll come back home. But most of all, you see yourself at age twelve. Standing in your room in front of your vanity, wondering why the three of you weren't enough as tears stain your cheeks.

You're seeing red. Angry, enraged, frustrated, painful, deep, dark fucking red. You want to scream and cry and break everything in sight. You want to claw your eyes out and tear your hair out in clumps. You want to punch a thick wall of concrete until all your fingers shatter, bash your skull against it. You want to go to that fucking funeral, and break open the fucking casket, and rip his fucking corpse apart. You're beyond rational thinking, unaware of anything going on around you. You can't hear Eddie asking you if you're alright, you can't see him trying to get your attention. All you can see is the pain that the man who unfortunately provided the sperm to create you has brought to your family. The only thing that snaps you out of it is Eddie standing in front of you, holding your shoulders firmly in his grasp as he looks at you. "What?" You say as you're yanked out of your own head, almost shocked to see him out of bed. Your chest is heaving, breath flaring out in harsh puffs. You soften a little, realizing Eddie's concerned about you.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" He implores, eyes searching yours for an answer. You've scared the hell out of him, watching you move back and forth like that was like nothing he's ever seen before. From anyone, even himself. You looked like a feral animal, ready to attack the first thing that got in your way. He's forgotten about his sickness altogether, too worried about what the hell is going on with you.

"My dad died." Those three words are all you can muster, it's like all emotion has been sucked out of you like a vacuum. You've spent it all having a mini breakdown, you're surprised you didn't punch Eddie in the face when he stood in your way. You didn't want to hurt him, obviously. It would’ve been more of a reflex thing.

"Okay? I take it that's not all, though. You wanna talk about it?" He asks, leading you to sit down with him.

"I guess. If you want. I can't guarantee I won't become unreasonably angry again." You sigh, worried he might think you're crazy for acting in such a way. But he just holds your hand, lifting your chin to gaze at you lovingly.

"I doubt it's unreasonable, Y/N. I've never seen you get like this before, and I doubt it was for nothing." His tone is calm, void of judgment. Eddie can tell this news is tearing you up inside, he can't say he wouldn't feel the same if his own father died while rotting in prison. "Lay down with me, baby. Tell me everything." You do as he asks, cuddling up with him under the covers. You lay your head on his chest, and he holds you close with his strong arms.

"So, Mom said Dad died in a car accident. Angie called her to tell her about it. I'm surprised she even thought to do such a thing. She had no issue stealing him away from us, I didn't think she was capable of a guilty conscience." You speak bitterly, brows furrowing again.

"I take it Angie is the woman your father ran off with?" He asks, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, that fucking whore. They had a couple kids together, by the sounds of it. Real nice, it's like me and Dusty never even existed." You're startled by how amped up you're getting, hoping you don't lose control again. But you continue, focusing on Eddie's fingers lightly stroking your arm. "Angie wants to have the funeral in Hawkins, and she wants us to meet their kids." You practically spit those final words, they taste like poison in your mouth.

"What the fuck?" He says, surprised that your father’s mistress would be so bold as to ask for such a big favor.

"Yeah! Right? That's what I said! But Mom already agreed to it, for the sake of saving face, I guess. People around town know about her, and how she ran off with Dad. Maybe she thinks it's better to go so Angie can't spread bullshit about us to his old friends, or something, I dunno." You end on a shrug, nuzzling further into him.

"So...what was the shouting for?" Eddie's a little afraid to ask, not wanting to set you off again.

"I told her I'm not fucking doing that. Angie and whoever their kids are is his family now. Dad died nine years ago in my eyes. I have nothing to mourn for. I may have yelled at Mom, though, swore a lot. And I never speak to her like that. Ever." You tear up at the thought, you regret being so vulgar and mean.

"Jesus, Y/N." He sighs, a bit disappointed in you. You should know your mother wasn't meaning to upset you. It's not her fault that this is happening.

"I know, okay? I feel awful about it, and I'm sure she'll give me a stern lecture when she picks me up later. But, I was just so fucking angry. That bitch has the nerve to ask us for favors? When she destroyed the family we had in exchange for one for herself? She can go to hell for all I care." You shove your face against his shirt, letting the tears fall as frustrated sadness takes hold.

"It's alright, sweetheart. This shit sucks. I can't imagine what it must be like. But I'm here for you, ‘kay?" He coos at you, putting a hand on your head to caress your hair as you cry. He hates seeing you so upset, this whole thing makes him mad for you. You stay like this for a while, just holding each other close until your tears eventually dry up.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm meant to be taking care of you right now, and here you are looking after me again." You sniffle, getting out of bed to do what you've been meaning to since you found him ill this morning.

"It's fine, love. I think ‘dead dad’ beats ‘stomach flu’ in a relationship." He smiles at you, sitting up against the headboard.

"If you say so. I'm gonna take your temperature and get you some soup. Drink your water, okay?" You instruct him, kicking into nurse mode. You're hiding again, giving in to that familiar reflex. You've told him pretty much everything, but there's something else. Part of you wants to go to the funeral, to let everyone know just how 'great' their friend/husband/father was. You doubt you'll be allowed to speak your piece, that's typically not on the agenda in the ceremony of mourning.

You go back to the kitchen, looking around the pantry for a can of chicken noodle soup. You locate one, opening it up and pouring the contents into a pot to heat up on the stove. Once it's ready, you transfer it to a bowl, bringing it back to Eddie on a tray along with some saltines and a glass of apple juice. "For me? You shouldn't have." He jokes, though he's not sure he'll be able to keep the food down for long. You seem off to him still, he's not sure why. But he's not gonna let you close yourself off, especially not with something like this. "Baby, what's wrong? And do not say 'nothing'." He says as you place the tray of food on his lap. Your eyes meet his, annoyed by how deadly serious he is.

You sigh, he's developed a knack for being so painfully intuitive with you. "Just a second, I gotta find your thermometer." You're stalling, leaving once more to dig through his medicine cabinet. You find what you're looking for, returning to his bedside to stick it in his mouth. He grunts at the sudden action, glaring at you as he holds the glass rod under his tongue. "Oh, hush." You sit sideways next to him, waiting for the reading. Eddie's eyes refuse to leave yours. He wants you to spill it, now. "Alright, alright! Stop staring at me like that, dammit!" You exclaim, his persistence is so irritating sometimes. "Look, much as I hate the whole situation, part of me wants to go. Not to meet Angie, not to meet her kids. But to tell everyone how awful of a person Dad is for leaving. Fat chance of that happening, though." You look down at your hands, picking your cuticles.

"Probably not. People don't take kindly to disrespecting the dead." Eddie says, taking the thermometer out of his mouth. He hands it to you, letting you read it. 100 degrees exactly, definitely a fever.

"Disrespect? I'd call it deserved." You retort, setting the thermometer on the nightstand.

"Sweetheart, I whole-heartedly agree with you. You should have every right to say what you want about him, but I can't imagine Angie or those kids would like to hear something like that. Would you, if you were in their place?"

You think about it for a moment, you've never considered how they might feel. It can't be easy for them, you're sure they loved him a lot. But his departure broke your family's hearts, and you feel like someone needs to pay. "I guess not. But, that doesn't change what he did, Eddie." You don't want to budge on this, you don't want to make nice and play pretend. You feel like you're owed the opportunity to say what's on your mind, after so many years of biting your tongue.

"Of course not, angel. I'm not trying to justify what he did at all, far from it. I'm just worried that in your little crusade for justice you're having in your head, you might end up hurting someone else. And that's not right, either." Your own temperature seems to be rising, at least in the way of your emotions. You're getting aggravated again, you don't want to sit and moralize about how right or wrong what you want is.

"Well, maybe I don't want to be right. I'm always doing that, what's 'right'. Holding my tongue, staying out of trouble, nose dug deep in my textbooks. Such a well-behaved girl, sweet little Y/N wouldn't hurt a fly." You speak maliciously, though it's not directed at him. His eyes widen as you speak, realizing you're ramping up again. "Maybe I want to be a bitch for once. Make them feel just a sliver of what I've felt for nine fucking years. Sounds plenty fair to me." Your nails dig into your knees, making holes in your stockings. You're nearing the boiling point again, breathing so hard it almost hurts. You hate feeling so out of control, it’s like you're going insane.

Eddie reaches over to touch your arm."Sweetheart一" You shrug him off, standing up again.

"I gotta go." You blurt as you try desperately to not break down crying again.

"What? Why?" He asks, confused as to what's happening. He doesn't want you to leave. You shouldn't be alone right now.

"I just...don't like how I'm being right now, okay? I-I need to breathe, get some air. I'm gonna walk home. I gotta apologize to Mom anyway, deal with whatever shit-show is going on with all that. Yeah." You're talking too fast, frantically coming up with an escape plan. You don't want to leave Eddie like this, but you can't be around him right now.

"Y/N一" He's about to plead with you, but you just shake your head.

"Don't beg me to stay, okay? I can't take that right now. I want to take care of you, but my mind is in an awful, ugly place. I sound like a monster and I don't want you to hate me." You explain, needing him to understand.

"I could never hate you, princess." He insists, begging with his eyes for you to come back to him.

"You don't know that, Eds." You reply without thinking, taking both of you aback with the words. You shake your head again, regaining focus. "But that's not the point. Point is, I need to leave right now. I'm too angry to be a good nurse, and it's not going to simmer down anytime soon. I'm not hiding, I swear. Eat your soup, drink your juice, alright? And call me later if you're up to it, or I'll call you. Whichever. I'm gonna get my things from the van, and I'll put the keys in the glove compartment, or something."

"Y/N." He's about to get out of bed, but you put a hand on his leg to stop him.

"Stay in bed. You need to rest. You don't need to deal with me acting like this right now, I'll be okay. I promise." You go over to him, leaning down to press a kiss on his hot forehead. "I'll visit you tomorrow, darling. I love you."

"I love you too, princess. Please call me when you get home? I wanna make sure you get there safe." He hates this day. Him being sick, your dad dying, and now you're leaving him earlier than you planned. He's always been worried about you, but today is something else. You're so angry, bitter, violent, even. It scares him, but he’s aware it's nothing compared to how you feel about yourself. It must be absolute hell inside your brain, all kinds of overwhelming emotions clashing against one another. His heart breaks for you, he can't help a couple tears falling from his own eyes on your behalf. He cares so deeply about you, although he knows you need a little time on your own. You've gotten to a point where you won't run away for the sake of not talking things through. He trusts your choice, even if he doesn't like it.

"Oh, Eddie. Don't cry, I'll be okay. I'll call you as soon as I walk through the front door." You reassure him as your own waterworks start up again.

"I just hate being away from you. You mean everything to me. And I don't like seeing you so upset, you deserve to be happy, love." He cups your cheek, gazing at you meaningfully. You lean in to kiss him, but he holds you back. "I don't want you to get sick, baby."

"I don't care about that. With all the kissing and fucking yesterday, I'm already doomed. Now, kiss me goodbye, please?" You bite your lip, though it trembles between your teeth from crying. He lets you make contact with him, your salty tears mingling together on each other's cheeks. Today has been a whirlwind for both of you, and it takes everything in you to pull away until you come back tomorrow. "I love you, Eddie." You say with a shuddering breath, resting your forehead against his.

"I love you too, Y/N. So much." His voice is strained, the sting of stomach acid and tears takes a toll after a while. He can't stand the idea of you leaving right now. He'd pull you onto him and not let go, if it wouldn't spill hot soup everywhere.

"Okay." You sigh, standing up to separate yourself. "I'm gonna go, but I'll call, and I'll be back tomorrow to spend the whole day with you."

"Promise?" He asks, giving you his best puppy eyes. You giggle at his gesture. He’s highly capable of making you smile, even at your lowest points.

"I promise. Eat, rest, and no smoking until you're better!" You instruct, pointing a finger at him. He grumbles at that last part, but agrees that it's probably best. You step to the doorway, looking back at him one last time. "Goodbye, Eddie."

"Bye, love. Be careful out there." You nod, closing the door behind you and making one final trip down the hall. Wayne's digging around in the fridge now, looking for something to eat.

"Back again, huh? What's the little prince need this time?" He speaks jokingly, until he sees your red, puffy face. "You okay, darlin'?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm just gonna go home for now, apologize to my mother. I'll call Eddie when I make it back home, and come by again tomorrow." You explain, before heading for the door.

"Good. I was a little worried there's some trouble in paradise."

"No, no. Nothing like that, just dumb family stuff. Believe me, I have no intention of letting Eddie go anytime soon. Or maybe ever." You muse, smiling for the first time in hours. He chuckles at your words, more than glad to see how much you love his nephew.

"That's what I like to hear. He says the same thing 'bout you every day. And I know it's too early to have any kinda marriage talk, but seein' the way you've made ‘im happy? Well, let's just say I'd be proud to call you my niece."

"Thanks, that means a lot." You're not sure how else to respond to his statement, but it's very sweet.

"And I hope whatever it is you got goin' on gets better, Y/N. You're a sweet girl, and it pains me to see a pretty face so sad." He shows deep concern for you, you’re looking a little ragged. Your hair is messy, your makeup smudged and streaked down your face, your dress wrinkled, and a few holes in your stockings.

"I appreciate that, Wayne. You're very kind. I'm gonna head home now. Can you make sure he doesn't smoke in there? I have an inkling he might try to do it when I'm not here." You laugh, already imagining Eddie lighting up the second he hears the front door close.

"No problem, darlin'. Be safe out there, alright?" He's always so kind to you, treating you like you belong here. The second Eddie brought you home, it was like you were family to him. Who knows, maybe you will be one day.

"I will, don't worry." You pull open the front door, stepping out into the early afternoon sun. It's pretty warm out today, it shouldn't be a bad walk home. You go to the van to retrieve your things, hiding the keys in the glove compartment like you said you would. You put on your heels, it's slightly better than going barefoot.

The walk takes longer than you expect, but you suppose that's what you need right now. Lots of solitary time to navigate the storm of emotions swimming around your head. You cry for a while as you walk, watering the grass with your tears. You miss Eddie already, and it makes you want to turn back. But you also miss your mom, and she needs you just a little bit more right now. You're very angry as well, grumbling to yourself every now and again when nobody's around. You hate your father, but you've never really thought about it much until now. You hate what he did, and that he started a whole new family. And going by what Angie wants, he talked about you like you were still in his life. Bastard. He sure as hell didn't act like it, but had no problem using you in conversation when it was convenient for him. You find yourself walking up your driveway about an hour later, your body getting you home on autopilot. "Sugarpuff?" Mom asks as she sees you stumble in the front door.

"Jesus, are you alright?" Dustin pipes up, noticing how fucked up you look. You slip your shoes off, not realizing the walk has left you blistered and bleeding. You toss the heels haphazardly on the shoe rack, not caring where they land.

"You look terrible, Y/N. What happened?" Mom rushes over to you, taking you in a big hug. You tense up in her arms, before relaxing into the embrace. You burst into tears again, burying your face against her chest.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I'm sorry for yelling and swearing at you. I'm sorry for being so mean一" you frantically apologize, unable to stop as you choke on your words.

"Honey, it's okay. Shh, it's okay." She strokes your back, trying to calm you down. Dustin joins the hug beside you, holding the three of you together in a nice warm bundle. You can hear them crying, too. It's just one big blubbering day for everyone, apparently. You're tired of the tears, but it's all you can manage. Your head hurts, and your stomach is cramping as you haven't eaten anything yet. And you suppose you need to know what the plan with all the funeral bullshit is, to know who or what to avoid, and when.

"Okay, I need to call Eddie. I also need to shower and eat something. I haven't had anything all day. And then you can tell me what the hell Angie wants." You wriggle out of the huddle, picking up the phone after stating your plan.

"So things are okay with Eddie, then? I was a little worried, given the state you're in." Mom says, breathing a sigh of relief that you're not nursing a broken heart.

"He's fine, I didn't wanna leave him when he's sick. But I'm needed more here." You dial his number, hearing it ring three times before being picked up. Wayne answers.

"Yello?" His gruff tone comes through the receiver.

"Hey, Wayne. It's Y/N, is Eddie awake?" You ask, hoping he is. You need to hear his voice again.

"Yeah, lemme get 'im for ya." He sets the phone down, you hear his footsteps recede down the hall. A moment later, Eddie picks up.

"Hey, angel. You get home alright?" He sounds so tired, you hope you didn't wake him.

"Yeah, I'm okay. My feet hurt, but it's fine. How are you doing? Did you eat your soup?"

"Yes, my love. Drank all my juice, too, like a good little patient. I still feel pretty awful. I wish you were still here, snuggled up in my arms." Sadness stains his words, sending sharp pangs through your chest.

"I know, baby. I'll be back tomorrow.. I'm gonna bring you some stuff to help you feel better, and I'm not leaving your side all day." You sweetly promise.

"You better! I hate being without you, sweetheart. Wayne's great and all, but I don't get to kiss him or call him cutesy names." He jokes, making you giggle. "There's my happy girl, I missed that laugh today."

"Yeah, I'm sorry today kinda went to shit." You can't help feeling guilty. From an outside perspective, it would seem you put your temper ahead of caring for your boyfriend.

"Relax, Y/N. There's nothing to feel bad about. I can already see the look on your face, don't beat yourself up." He always knows just what to say to make you feel better. You can't help smiling like an idiot when you're reminded of just how much he loves you.

"I'll try not to, Eds. I'm gonna let you rest, okay? You definitely need it." You hate to cut this conversation short, but you both have other things to worry about.

"I will. Be kind to yourself, Y/N. I love you." He speaks softly, the words sending calming waves through your body.

"I love you too, darling. I'll see you tomorrow." You hang up the phone, sighing as you let some of the weight of today fall off your shoulders. Eddie has a way of melting your stress away, almost like a superpower. "I'm gonna take a shower." You announce, glancing in Mom and Dustin's direction. They just nod, faces red and splotchy from today's news. You walk down the hall, shutting the bathroom door behind you. You peel your dress from your body, it smells like vomit, soaked in sweat from your walk. The lingerie set isn't doing much better, so you leave everything crumpled in a stinking pile to be dealt with later.

You turn on the water, letting it warm up just the way you like it. You stand at the sink, looking at your reflection as the room fills with steam. You're an absolute mess, and you don't feel much better, either. You’re sure it's just a hangover. But, today has taken a serious toll on you. Your body aches from the miles you’ve traveled today, you hate the idea of standing up any longer to wash yourself. The hot water should help a little, loosen your sore muscles and wash away the caked makeup. There's also a sour taste in your mouth, so you decide to brush your teeth. The tingle of cool spearmint thankfully forces the bitter flavor to recede, and the shower is ready for you shortly after.

You step under the showerhead, letting the water rush over you. This is exactly what you need right now, although you've gotten used to having a partner here with you. You sigh again, cursing yourself for missing Eddie. He's going to be fine. You're going to be fine. It's hard to remember that sometimes, your brain finds worrying to be a rather thrilling hobby. You scrub the makeup off your face, reaching for the shampoo to clean your hair. You take your time, working the various soaps over your body to wash your troubles away. Once you're finished, you step out onto the cool tiles, wrapping yourself in a towel. You scoop your dirty clothes off the floor, tossing them in the hamper in your bedroom. The towel falls from your naked body, and you get into some comfy pajamas. "Alright, so what does Angie have planned, exactly?" You ask as you rejoin the others in the kitchen to rustle up a late lunch. Your stomach is begging for food, and you don't care what it is at this point.

"Come sit with us at the table, and we'll talk it over." Mom says, gesturing at a seat between her and Dustin. You grab some string cheese and an apple, something easy enough to eat before sitting down with them. "Okay, so Angie plans to have the funeral next Friday at 5pm. She'd like us all to be there, but before that she wants us to have dinner with her and the kids on Wednesday as they'll be in town to finalize the arrangements."

"Do we really have to do this?" Dustin asks, not exactly keen to meet some strange kids and hang around the woman who took Dad away from all of you.

"Yes, Dusty! We all do. I don't want to hear an argument about it, and I certainly don't want any fighting or name-calling either!" She warns, flicking stern eyes between the two of you.

"This is such bullshit." Dustin crosses his arms, wishing there was a way out of this.

"Language! Look, I'm not pleased about this, either. But he's dead, kiddos. There's nothing we can change about the past, no matter how much we want to. But what we can do is try to come together as a family and make a better future. We don't need to keep holding on to anger and resentment. We have to let it go." You're surprised she's handling this so well, she definitely took Dad leaving in the first place terribly. She cried for weeks, living off of wine and ice cream for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. You had to step in to take care of yourself and Dustin while she grieved, and that certainly wasn't easy.

"You make it sound so simple. But you know damn well it isn't." You reply, still easily sent into pure rage at the mere thought of moving on and letting go.

"I didn't say it would be easy, kids. But that's the way it is. I don't want to hear any more about it. There's not going to be any more debate or discussion. You're both going to that dinner and the funeral, and you're gonna be on your best behavior." Claudia stands her ground. You and Dustin groan simultaneously, acting like petulant children.

"Can I at least bring Eddie? Otherwise, I dunno if I'll be able to last five minutes without throttling that whore's neck." You ask.

"Fine! But only because he's a good young man that knows how to keep you together. Now, that's the end of it. No excuses, no tantrums, no nothing. You just go, and play nice for a few hours. Alright?" You both nod sheepishly at her, not wanting to anger her any further. "And stop calling her a whore, dammit! She has a name, and you will show her respect by using it!" She adds, putting an end to the conversation.

"Okay, sorry." You apologize, though you don't really mean it. Angie is a whore, no matter how anyone wants to dress it up. She went after a married man. Her boss. Your father. She broke up your family, and you'll never forgive her for that. But you know how to fake it. You've been doing that for as long as you can remember. What difference will a few more times really make?

Part 11.2: Bad Medicine

Sunday, April 9th, 1989

"There's my sexy nurse! I've missed you, baby." Eddie calls to you as you walk in his front door on Sunday morning. You biked over after a short trip to the supermarket to gather some get-well supplies. He's laying on the couch to watch TV, covered up in a cozy blanket. There's various objects splayed about his lap, a paperback novel, D&D stuff, his sketchbook, and various writing utensils.

"And how's my handsome patient?" You reply, putting your backpack on the kitchen table with a thump.

"Still pretty awful, but Wayne's all better. He's actually working a double today to make up for the time he lost." He says as you come over to him. He sits up against the armrest, letting you clear the mess away before sitting at his side. His eyes have bags under them, he must not have slept much. And he's so pale, with a light sheen of sweat glistening on his face and neck.

"Still pukey?" You feel his forehead with your lips, still noticing a bit of a fever.

"A little. Much less than yesterday. But my head is killing me, and I keep going hot and cold." He answers. You glance around to see if the thermometer is out here, realizing it might still be in Eddie's room.

"I'll be right back, Eds." You say simply, getting up to retrieve the little glass instrument. You locate it on his nightstand, just where you left it yesterday. You notice some fresh cigarette butts in his ashtray, the little shit smoked when you explicitly told him not to. You suppose it shouldn't be a big deal, he's twenty-three for fuck's sake. But it'll make him take longer to get better, and you hate to see him so miserable. You return to the room, standing next to the couch with a stern look on your face.

"What's wrong, angel?" He seems nervous, like he knows he's been caught. He swallows hard, worried you'll be angry with him.

"Eddie, did you smoke after I asked you not to?" You cross your arms, waiting for his response. He averts your gaze, your stare making him anxious.

"Maybe." He mumbles, cursing himself for not emptying the ashtray earlier.

You sigh, at least he's not lying about it. "Look, I know it's a strong habit for you. It's getting to be that way for me, too. But if you keep doing it while you're sick, it's just gonna take longer for you to get better." He scowls at you, annoyed at being treated like a child. You just roll your eyes, continuing your mini lecture. "You're a grown man, you can do what you want. I'm not gonna stop you, I'm only trying to help. You don't want to stay sick for longer than you have to, do you?"

"I suppose not." He replies in resignation, crossing his own arms now. Eddie apparently gets quite bratty when he's sick. He's lucky it's a cute look on him.

You know exactly what to say to convince him to stop smoking, letting a mischievous smirk spread across your face. You sit down once more, leaning in real close to look deep into his eyes. "You know....the sooner you get better, the sooner I can give you head and have sex with you." You tease in a sing-song voice, making his eyes widen.

"Fine! Fine, I'll stop. It's gonna be absolute hell, though, nicotine withdrawal is no joke." He grumbles, letting you confiscate his cigs and lighter.

"I know, baby. But I'm gonna make it all better, okay?" You take hold of his clammy hand, bringing it to your lips to kiss it. Eddie softens at your touch, he tells himself he can go a couple days without his smokes. "Did you sleep at all? You look exhausted."

"Uh, not really. Was too busy shivering and barfing." He yawns, struggling to keep his eyes open. You gesture for him to keep his mouth agape, gently placing the thermometer under his tongue. He hates the damn thing, paranoid he might bite too hard on it one day and hurt himself.

"I'm sorry, love. I feel awful for leaving early yesterday. Maybe you'd be better off today if I had stayed." Seeing him in such a state has made your heart ache with guilt, you couldn't keep yourself together for a few hours to take care of him when he needed you most. You feel like a terrible girlfriend right about now, letting anger take control like that was so selfish. Eddie hands off the thermometer again, though you're not sure it was in long enough to get an accurate reading.

"I would be exactly the same, Y/N. The only thing that would be different is you having a higher chance of getting sick. It was probably best for you to go home when you did. Speaking of, how are you doing?" He can tell you're beating yourself up again, it reads like a blinking neon sign on your face. He hates it when you do that, you're so hard on yourself when you don't need to be.

"I'm fine, not sick at all. I am kinda tired, yesterday took a lot out of me." You realize how silly you sound, complaining about being tired when your boyfriend is fighting off a nasty flu. "It doesn't matter, I'm here to take care of you." You shake your head and force a smile to convince him it's not a big deal. He's your priority right now, nothing else.

"Sweetheart, it matters to me that you're alright. I don't want you to pretend you're fine if you're not. I may be sick as a dog, but that doesn't mean you can't have something going on, too. I'm perfectly capable of being there for you, no matter how much I feel like death. How'd things go after you got home?" He insists you're not doing anything wrong, speaking calmly while holding your hand.

You groan, rolling your eyes at the thought of how yesterday went. You'd rather not relive it, but Eddie insists on being supportive. "Well, we were all crying in the goddamn living room before I called you, so that was fun." Sarcasm laces your voice, you're just so over all the crying at this point. "And after I had a shower and stuff, Mom said we have to go to dinner with Angie. Then, we have to go to the funeral. We also have to play nice and not cause a scene. I'm not allowed to call Angie a whore anymore either, because 'she has a name and I have to use it'." You're nauseated by the thought of having to do any of these things, not hiding the amount of contempt you have as you speak. You know you sound childish, like a surly teenager bitching about doing something you don't want to. But you can't help it, this whole thing is so fucking stupid and unfair. You look at him, wondering if he's judging you for acting so immature. But he's just patiently listening, letting you vent any way you please.

"So, when's all that happening?" Eddie asks, wanting to be there by your side if he can. He senses you probably need an anchor to stop you from going off the deep end, and he'll happily be that for you.

"Dinner is on Wednesday, and the funeral is on Friday." You grumble, wishing your final exams would go long enough to let you skip it. But alas, you have no such luck.

"You want me to go with you? That is, if your mom says it's okay." He doesn't want to step on anyone's toes, though he imagines Claudia won't mind. She's a sweet woman, always warm and welcoming with others.

"I was just about to ask you that. She said you can come, if you're up for it. And I would really appreciate you being there. Otherwise, I don't know what I might do." You giggle like it's a joke, but it’s not exactly funny. It’s entirely possible that if you have to go through all this without him, you might do something crazy. What that 'something' might be, you're not so sure. All you know is that it wouldn't be pretty.

"Of course I'll be there, babydoll. I know this isn't easy for you, and I wanna be there to hold your hand through it all." He says sweetly, God you love this man. He never hesitates to jump at the chance to be in your corner.

"Thank you, Eds. Although, I'm hoping you'll be holding more than just my hand." You bite your lip suggestively, making a bold move of bringing Eddie's hand to cup your tit over your t-shirt.

He groans, wishing he could act on the slight boner growing inside his pajamas. His eyes flick between yours and your beautiful chest, chuckling darkly. "Ooh, I get a naughty nurse, huh? You're lucky I can barely move, or I'd be taking your temperature." He squeezes your flesh a little, just enough to draw a breathy moan from your lips.

"Well, I am feeling a little warm. Maybe I should take off my shirt, that way you can get a better reading." What the hell are you doing? You can't believe that you're seriously leaning into this right now. Eddie's sick, very sick. You can't fuck him, much as you currently want to. It's unfair to wind yourselves up when you can't act on it, borderline cruel. You sigh, gently removing his hand from your chest, letting it fall into your lap. You shake your head, locking your libido away in a box inside your mind. "Sorry, I don't know what I'm doing. God! Why is my brain compelled to cope with stress by being a total slut?" You chuckle in annoyance, utterly embarrassed with yourself.

"Hey, I'm not complaining! I was even starting to feel better, sweetheart." Eddie strokes your thigh, which just smashes that box open again. You hold back another moan, you hate how easily amped up you are sometimes. He notices your change in body language, taking his hand away while clearing his throat. "Sorry, I'll cool off."

"It's fine, Eds. We'll have some catching up to do once you're better." You giggle, giving him a genuine smile this time.

"That we will." He laughs, already picturing what he plans to do with you.

"But for now, back to business. I brought some stuff for you." You pat his thigh, standing again to go open up your backpack. You pull out a plastic bag, which contains ginger ale, cans of soup, and a box of bland crackers. You noticed there wasn't another can of chicken noodle in his cabinets yesterday, and the saltines you gave him were kinda stale. "Have you eaten yet today?" You ask, glancing over at him from the kitchen table.

"I had some toast earlier." He replies, reaching for his sketchbook again. You nod, looking at the clock. Half-past ten, not quite time for lunch. Ginger ale couldn't hurt, though. You locate a glass, opening the can with a tsss. You bring it over to him, setting it on the table.

"This should help settle your stomach, darling." He smiles in kind, eyes still trained on the page in front of him. His tongue is sticking out as he concentrates on whatever he's drawing. "Whatcha workin' on, baby?" You ask, very curious what's got hold of his attention over you.

"Wouldn't you like to know!" He says with a smirk, eyes flicking to yours for a moment. You raise an eyebrow, wondering what that means. "You'll see, but you gotta wait until I'm done."

"If you say so." You say nonchalantly, but inside you're dying to find out what he's hiding. You've seen a lot of his artwork over the last few weeks, he's so talented it's unreal. "Do you need anything else?" You ask, unsure what to do now. You'd try to cuddle him, but Eddie would probably think you're just trying to peek at his work. Or that you're making an attempt to get sick to avoid going to the funeral.

"Nope. I'm just happy to have you here, sweetheart." He speaks contentedly. You nod, drumming your thighs with your hands. "Do you need something, my love?" He asks, his eyes trained on his work.

"No, not really. Oh, did you get the stuff out of the van at all?" You ask, trying to find something to do.

"Nah, I barely made it to the couch today." He replies.

"Oh, that's okay. I'll take care of it." You chirp, eager to have a new task.

"You don't have to, Y/N. You're not my goddamn maid." Eddie says dismissively.

"I know. I want to, chores keep my mind busy." You explain, picking your fingers. Sitting in silence isn't exactly best when trying to stay calm about the whole 'dead dad' thing. Eddie stops what he's doing when he realizes why you're asking. He lays his drawing face down on his chest to look at you apologetically.

"Sorry. I'm just not used to having people do things for me like that." His expression softens, and he takes hold of your fidgety hand. "Knock yourself out, baby. I’m sure you could use a distraction."

"Thanks, love." You lean forward, giving him another kiss on the forehead. He hums at the contact. In a sneaky move, you attempt to flip his sketch over to see what he's up to. He swats your hand away, tutting at you in disapproval.

"Y/N! No peeking!" He flattens his palms over the book, holding it down defensively. He narrows his gaze at you, almost glaring.

"Okay, okay. I'll leave you alone. You're just so talented, Eds. I love seeing what you create." You say sweetly, watching his cheeks flare at your compliment. You love it when he blushes, because only you make him do that. You giggle at his reaction, leaving his side to set to work. You retrieve his things from the van, putting the empty mugs in the sink and his books on the shelf. The blanket goes in the wash with his dirty clothes, and you get the cycle going. While the washer is running, you clean all the dishes in the sink left over from yesterday, drying them with a towel before returning them to their rightful place.

You feel Eddie's eyes on you as you work, and they're most certainly focused on your ass. You smirk at the thought, letting him enjoy the view from the couch. You turn around to peek every so often, but he's too quick at averting his gaze for you to catch him. You're just finishing drying the final dish, one of Wayne's mugs, when his arms wrap around you from behind unexpectedly. "Are you done yet, sweetheart? I've got something to show you." He speaks lowly in your ear, making your skin sizzle where his breath fans over it.

"Eddie, go lay down. You're supposed to be resting. I'll be there in a sec." You're surprised he has the strength to even make the trip over to you, much less 'unintentionally' tease you again. He blows you a raspberry, begrudgingly returning to the couch. You roll your eyes, tossing the kitchen towel into the laundry basket once you're done with it. You retrieve another ginger ale from the fridge, bringing the can over and pouring it into his glass. "Alright, let's see it!" You say in excitement.

Eddie holds his sketchbook in his hands, slowly turning it to show you what he's drawn. He smiles at you, though he's unsure his work is good enough. What you see on the page makes your jaw drop. He's managed to capture your likeness perfectly. The slope of your nose, the sparkle in your eyes, the rounds of your cheeks, your beautiful hair with the flower he put into it on Friday. Every little detail is flawless, you've never seen yourself like this before. "Do you like it?" He asks, dying a little with every second that you're silent.

"Yes! It's amazing, baby! How long have you been working on this?" You take the book from him, wanting to get an even closer look. He smirks, shyly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Since this morning. It's a rough sketch, really, I can do better with more time." He's quick to put himself down, but you won't hear it.

"Oh, stop that. It's perfect. Can I keep it?" You ask, pouting your lip..

"Of course, sweetheart. Anything for you." He chuckles, unable to resist giving you everything you want. You lean over to give him a light kiss on the lips, letting out a content sigh when you pull away.

"You're really something else, Eddie Munson." You set the book on the table, not caring about any germs at this point. You lay your body over his, cuddling up real close. You wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling him with your face. "Is this okay, baby? I can move if you're not comfortable." You ask, realizing you might be acting selfishly again.

"It's more than okay. I love being close to you, princess. You're the perfect little snugglebug." Eddie coos, always up for a good cuddle with his favorite girl. He lays his arms over your back, stroking you mindlessly with his fingertips. You can hear his heart beating steadily in his chest, your own gradually matching his rhythm. He feels so nice and warm against you, his touch lulling you into a relaxed state. You don't mean to, but you can't help drifting off into a light sleep. Eddie notices your delicate snoring, deciding to let you be for as long as he can. He knows how exhausted you must be from everything going on in your life right now. Watching you have some semblance of peace makes his heart relax, and he follows you into dreamland shortly after.

You wake up a while later, craning your neck up to look around while blinking your eyes repeatedly. Eddie's unmoving underneath you, breathing quietly as his head lays against the armrest. He's still sleeping, and you try your best not to wake him up. "God, he's so cute when he sleeps." You whisper to yourself, wondering how you managed to get so lucky. As carefully as you can, you lift his arms off of you, laying them back over his lap. You slip off the couch, and stand to check the time. 1:00pm, he needs to eat. You creep over to the kitchen, opening cabinets and clicking on the burner as quietly as possible. You heat up another bowl of soup, and bring it over on a tray with some crackers. Your hand gently extends to tap Eddie awake. "Hey, I made you some lunch." He stirs, rolling onto his side with a groan. You hate to wake him, but he's got to put some food in his stomach. "Baby, c'mon." You persist, and his eyes flutter open to look at you.

"Hm?" He asks through squinted eyes, still working his way out of the thick sleep clouding his head. His hair frames his face in a frizzed out mess of chocolate curls. His gaze falls to the table, and you can hear his stomach grumble in hunger. "Thank you, sweetheart." He gives you a weak smile, sitting up and putting his feet to the floor. Eddie runs his hands over his face, loudly exhaling in an effort to ground himself in reality. He was having the strangest dreams, a fever will do that. And it feels like he's slept for a hundred years, though he doesn't feel well-rested whatsoever.

"I was thinking I could...run you a bath after you've eaten? Wash the sweat away, soothe your achy little muscles?" You suggest, sitting beside him and putting your palm against his back. He just nods and reaches for the spoon to eat his soup. You observe him closely, almost like a hawk. You don't mean to hover, truly. Eddie notices you staring, looking at you with a warm smile a few times. "Sorry." You say flatly as he 'catches' you for the third time.

"It's okay, Y/N. I'm not a baby bird." He jokes, his free hand going to your knee to squeeze it comfortingly. You giggle at his comment, he’s still a joker despite how miserable he might feel. "Have you eaten today?" He asks, turning the concern onto you.

"Uh....I had coffee this morning. Does that count?" Your tone acknowledges just how much Eddie won't like hearing this. He gives you a stern look, pointing to the kitchen.

"Go find something. Jesus Christ." It's not a suggestion, but more of an order. You do as he asks, yelping at his hand lightly spanking your ass as you stand. You have half a mind to glare at him, but you doubt that’ll go down well. You make yourself a sandwich, returning to Eddie's side as you set your plate on the coffee table. "That's my girl." He kisses your forehead, though he's still a bit annoyed at you ignoring your own needs for his benefit.

"I suppose. I'm not very hungry." The ham and cheese on Wonder bread before you is quite possibly the most unappealing thing on earth right about now.

"I know, baby. But you gotta eat. It's just a little sandwich." Eddie insists, munching down some of his crackers.

"Ugh." You grumble, and hold the soft, white bread in your hands. You force the sandwich down your throat one bite at a time. Your guts have been twisted up in knots since yesterday, making it difficult to eat. You're nervous about finals starting tomorrow, and all the funeral-related activities this week, along with taking care of Eddie. It's like you're juggling everything inside your head, balancing on a unicycle all the while. Any second, you'll drop one of the balls, and everything will come crashing down. You swallow the last bite, it hits your stomach like a heavy stone. "I'll get your bath going, Eds." You say quickly, putting your plate in the sink before heading for the bathroom.

"O-kay." Eddie replies, wondering why you're fleeing his side. He continues eating, he'll never hear the end of it if he doesn't swallow every last bite. You turn on the faucet of the bathtub, the water gushing in a thick stream as you push down the plug. Your hand rests under it, gauging the temperature to make sure it's just right. You don't want to leave Eddie all alone in there, but you sense your sandwich wanting to make a surprise return.

"Fuck." You sigh to yourself, trying to feel your own forehead. But your hands are too cold to tell if you have a fever or not. Nausea flows through you in harsh waves, flipping your stomach like a fallen surfer spinning through the rush of the ocean. You're not sure if it's the flu, or if you're just anxious. Your hands are clammy, and your heart is racing. You can't slow your rapid breathing, this has to be another attack. That's it, you can't hold it anymore. You dash over to the toilet, just barely making it into the bowl.

"You okay, princess?" Eddie calls from the living room. When he doesn't get an answer, you hear his footfalls coming down the hallway. He leans in the doorway, finding you on your knees while you throw up. "Shit, sweetheart." He tuts, kneeling beside you to hold your hair back. You tremble as your insides wring themselves out like a used rag. Great, he's taking care of you, yet again. You'd roll your eyes if your stomach wasn't clenching as hard as it can to empty itself completely. You finish a minute later, turning to lean against the wall as you gulp in air. Eddie leans over to feel your forehead with his lips, you soften at the plush feel against your skin. "Hmm, you don't have a fever. Are you alright?" He asks, eyes filled to the brim with worry.

"I'm fine, mostly. I've just been so anxious about everything, I think it's catching up with me." You reply, forcing yourself to stand and continue monitoring his bath. Eddie wishes you'd slow down, you're ignoring what your body needs, and it's hurting you. He joins you on his feet, forcing you to face him.

"Baby, I'm worried about you." He says, taking your hands in his. His thumbs stroke your fingers, but your focus remains on the running water. "Y/N. Can you stop for a second? The bath can wait." His voice raises, no longer hiding his annoyance. Your eyes flick to his reluctantly, and his shoulders tense at what he finds there. You pupils show exhaustion, and fear, and maybe a little anger, too. He imagines you don't appreciate him badgering you like a child. "Look, I know you've got a lot on your plate right now." Eddie starts, moving closer to put his hands on your waist.

"You can say that again." You interrupt, crossing your arms in defense. You're not really sure why you feel like this. Eddie's only trying to help, but maybe that's the problem. He's always helping you, it's almost never the other way around. He should be in bed, resting. Not trying to comfort you when you've gone all nutso again.

"I think you need to slow down, angel. You're so focused on helping me, you're ignoring everything else." Your face falls at his words, staring at the floor. There's a crack in the tile that you suddenly find very interesting. He lifts your chin with his finger, trying to get you to listen. His face hardens, jaw clenching slightly. "I'm serious, princess. You're all over the place in there, and that's okay. But I won't let you ignore what you need for my sake. I don't care if that means you're crying every five minutes, or bursting with rage, or whatever else. Either let it happen and we'll deal with it, or you have to go home. Understand?" He says finally.

You're taken aback by him suggesting that he'll kick you out. But he's right, bottling yourself up clearly isn't the move here. You still feel immeasurably guilty for having problems when he's sick. Obviously, you can't control when life comes around to knock you on your ass. The timing sucks, but Eddie doesn't care. He wants you to be open with him, and that's not asking much. "Okay." You answer, not sure what else there is to add. He nods, letting you go so he can undress. You turn away, shutting the water off once the tub is filled up enough. You grab a towel from the rack above the sink, closing the toilet lid to set it on top. You also pluck a washcloth from the shelf, doing everything in your power to not peek at Eddie's naked body. You set the cloth on the edge of the bath, in perfect reach for him.

You hear him step into the water, little splashing noises rippling through its surface as he sits down. He groans, his muscles aching terribly while he tries to get comfortable. You're about to leave the room to give him some privacy, when he speaks again. "You wanna help me, love?" Eddie asks, desperately wanting your assistance. He can barely lift his arms, washing himself on his own will prove to be a challenge.

You turn on your heels, meeting his gaze. "Of course, baby." You reply kindly, kneeling beside the tub. You tie your hair in a ponytail to keep it from dipping into the water, which makes Eddie cock an eyebrow at you. "I don't wanna get my hair wet, you perv." You scoff, lightening the air in the room. He chuckles back, his body relaxing further as the warmth of the bath seeps beneath his skin. You reach for the plastic cup that's kept in the room, dipping it into the tub to fill it. You lift it above Eddie's head, blocking the flow from his face with your hand to wet his hair. It takes a few tries, his locks are particularly thick.

"I'm lucky to have you, babydoll. You know that, right?" He says, eyes fluttering closed at the comforting sensation of you massaging shampoo into his scalp. He moans lightly, your hands feel so good right now. Fuck, don't get hard, he thinks to himself. What you're doing isn't meant to be sexual whatsoever. What can he say? You possess the ultimate power over him, one he doesn't let anyone have so easily.

"You say that, and I want to believe you." You speak honestly. That's what he wants, right? "I mean, I know you mean it. I just…feel like more trouble than I'm worth." His eyes open again, looking at you sideways.

"Never, Y/N. I promise, there's nothing you say or do that feels like too much." He says earnestly. Ugh, he's too perfect. You just nod in response, reaching for the cup again to rinse out the lather. You condition his hair, letting yourself relax as you admire his blissed out face. He loves having you by his side, and you love being here just as much. Your eyes slip downwards, finding Eddie's erection underneath the sudsy water. You blush, averting your gaze. Don't stare, dumbass. He's sick, and vulnerable. "I saw that." He startles you, making you gasp. Your cheeks burn in shame, but he just laughs. "It's okay, love. It's not a big deal. We're in an intimate moment. It's bound to bring out certain...feelings." Eddie clears his throat at that, also a bit embarrassed despite his own words.

"You always know exactly what to say, Eds." You smirk, rinsing his hair again before wetting the washcloth and adding some soap to it. You scrub his body gently, starting with his back. You watch his muscles flex, which gets your heart beating a little faster. His shoulder blades shift under his perfect skin, and you're imagining that's what they look like when he's laying on top of you. Dammit. You can't help the little sigh that escapes your lips, though he seemingly takes no notice. You move on to his arms, holding him by the wrist as you drag the cloth along his flesh. He smiles at you, savoring every touch you give him.

You take his other arm, having to lean over the water to fully reach him. Eddie stares at your chest, examining the outline of your bra cups under the thin t-shirt you're wearing. He bites his lip, wanting to bury his face in your amazing tits. You both come to the conclusion that because you can't have sex right now, it makes you want it more than you ever thought possible. The perfect torture for a young couple like yourselves. "This is so fuckin' unfair." Eddie verbalizes what you've both been thinking since he got into the tub, the whine tinging his voice echoes the one in your head.

"I know, baby. I hope I'm not being dramatic when I say it's killing me." You reply, letting his arm go to wash his chest. You've been avoiding this area, as it's probably one of your favorite parts of him. His supple skin, the tattoos, the light amount of hair leading a trail to another part you especially adore.

"Not at all, sweetheart. The feeling is mutual." He shudders as you bring the cloth to his torso, gritting his teeth to keep himself from pulling you into the tub with him. He feels so weak, and yet, still so hungry for you. It's an awful combination, really. You focus on the task at hand, forcing yourself to only see a surface that needs cleaning and nothing more. It helps, and you're soon able to migrate to his armpits. He settles down a little, his underarms are definitely not an erogenous zone.

You hand off the cloth to him once you’ve done all you can. "Here, I’m sure you can clean your bits on your own." You sigh, and he nods while taking it from your grasp. You turn away again, hearing him shuffle around uncomfortably. He squeezes the cloth out when he's done, setting it on the edge of the bathtub.

"All clean, sweetheart." He says, signaling that you're okay to look at him again. You do, finding wide eyes staring back at you. His pupils are blown out, all your touching has amped him up beyond belief. He's trying to think of something, anything else. But it's not working, and his cock is not settling down.

"You alright there, Eddie?" You ask, though you think you already know the answer. He slowly shakes his head, but he can't possibly ask you to do what he wants. Your eyes look between his legs again, he's still hard as a rock, leaking from the tip. "Oh, baby. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to rile you up like this." You tut, barely able to resist licking your lips at the sight of him.

"Not your fault. You're just really good at giving baths, apparently." He breathes heavily, and you know exactly what you can do. It's not much, not nearly enough compared to what you both crave. But it'll have to do. You reach your hand under the water, keeping your eyes on his. He's almost panting, anticipating your hand wrapping around his length. "Fuck, Y/N." He moans when you make contact, and it sets your insides on fire.

"It's okay, love. I'll make it all better." You coo at him. Using your free hand, you gently push on his chest to have him lay against the back of the bath. His knees breach the surface, letting you access him easily. You begin to pump him in your palm, eating up every little sound he lets out. You feel yourself getting wet, but you don't do anything with it. You can get off on your own at a later date, it's all about Eddie right now. "Does that feel good, Eds?" You ask, smiling warmly at him as his mouth sits agape.

"Yes, so good." He replies with a whimper, extending a hand to feel you up over your shirt. You moan at his touch, not caring about his fingers leaving wet marks on the fabric. You stop for a second, taking off your top and bra to let him massage your tits. "You're so pretty, angel. So fuckin' perfect." He groans, carefully tweaking your nipple between his pruney fingers.

"And you're absolutely gorgeous, baby. The most handsome man I've ever seen." You moan at the cool sensation of his wet flesh touching yours, gripping his dick a little harder in your hand. You're sitting on your knees, trying to give him as much access as you can. He sits up, bringing his hot mouth to your chest. "Jesus, Eds." You gasp, jerking him faster in your hand. He plants sloppy kisses all over your breasts, taking one of your sensitive buds between his teeth. His wet hair drips heavily onto your jeans, seeping through to your panties without a care. His hands move behind you, holding you closer as he marks your flesh. More water runs down your back, flowing directly into the little gap at the back of your pants. He's gonna get you soaked, in more ways than one.

"I wish I could be inside you, princess." He mumbles against your chest, frantically nipping at you as your wrist flicks expertly to drive him wild.

"I know, baby. As soon as you're better, we'll fuck as much as you want." You hold his head to your chest, his tongue and teeth feel so fucking good against you.

"Promise?" He asks, nearing his end as you stroke him even faster beneath the water.

"I promise. As many times as you want, for as long and as hard as you want. We can even use every page we haven't gotten to in that little book you gave me." You whine, wishing you could get off like this. You're certainly revved up, but it's not nearly enough.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." He grunts, his stomach tensing as his release overtakes him. Eddie moans against you, biting hard on your tender skin. His load empties into the bath, a sticky paste that sinks to the bottom. His hips stutter which, causing the water to slosh around, and his breath comes out ragged as his high subsides. Eddie lets you go, laying back down with his heart hammering inside his chest. "Remind me to get sick more often." He quips, making you giggle. You start to shiver, the water he’s dripped all over you has made your clothes uncomfortable to continue wearing.

"Absolutely not. As much as I love taking care of you, not being able to fuck your brains out is the worst punishment imaginable." You unplug the tub, and the water slurps down the drain. You help Eddie stand, wrapping his arm around your naked torso to lead his feet onto the bath mat. Droplets fall from him, landing on the plush material below in quiet taps. You hand him his towel, gathering both your discarded clothes to wash later. You go to his room, locating some clean pajamas for the two of you to wear. You're sure he won't mind you borrowing some clothes while your own hang up to dry.

Eddie sneaks up behind you, slapping your ass again. You yelp, whipping around to shoot him a glare. Your tits bounce at the motion, his eyes falling to your chest. "Goddamn, I'll never get tired of seeing these." His tongue plays at the edge of his mouth, and you notice his towel wrapped around his waist. His v-line is in full view, distracting you for a second. You snap yourself out of it, remembering that you have to wait.

He's just about to reach up and grab your breasts, when you back away from him. "Cool it, Eds. You've had enough excitement for one day." You tease, throwing some pajamas his way as you pull one of his Dio shirts over your head. He whines at the loss of a beautiful view, and you scoff at him. You slip out of your soggy jeans and panties, replacing them with some flannel lounge pants that go a little ways past your feet. You have to tie the drawstrings extra tight so they don't fall down, hoping you won't trip over the excess length.

"Fuck, you always look so good in my clothes. How do you do that?" Eddie asks in disbelief. You're not sure what he means. You feel like a little kid, the clothes that fit him perfectly are easily two sizes too large on you.

"I dunno, they sure are comfy though." You say sheepishly, playing with the hem of your 一his一 shirt. Once he’s fully dressed, you take everything that needs washed to the machine. You realize you have other items in there from earlier, swapping them out quickly and hanging the clean clothes to dry over the shower curtain rod. You start the next wash cycle, and take Eddie's dirty dishes to the sink. You contemplate washing those, too, but you think your body is finally ready to accept a small amount of food. You stick a couple slices of bread in the toaster, pressing the lever down to get them nice and warm. You find some peanut butter in the cabinet, something comforting ought to stay down.

Eddie returns to the couch, switching the channel on the TV. He absolutely hates daytime talk shows. "You feelin’ better, sweetheart?" He asks, settling on a cartoon. He certainly feels miles better himself, though he's not at full strength just yet.

"I’m alright. I'm actually hungry now…for more than just food." You can't help it, the little 'splash' the two of you made in the bathroom a few minutes ago has really got you going. Maybe you shouldn't be telling him this, he'll probably feel bad for getting you all hot and bothered. But he wants honesty, and you're going to give it to him.

"Yeah...sorry ‘bout that." He replies, guilt lacing his tone. There it is, you knew you should've kept your mouth shut.

"It's fine, love. Toast will have to do, for now." You sigh, regretting every word that leaves your lips. You don't want him to be upset, you just want him to get better. You hunch over the counter, laying your chin on your flattened palms as you stare at the toaster. The shiny metal reflects your face back at you in morphed fashion, your expression downturned into a rubbery frown.

"Oh, you poor thing. I can hear the blue balls from across the room. I'll make it up to you every way I can, princess. I assure you of that." He says smartly, finding your frustration just a teensy bit amusing.

"You better. I expect to not be able to walk by the end of the week." You grumble, hiding your smirk as you continue to watch your own warped image in the kitchen appliance. You instinctively rub your legs together as unsavory thoughts flood your head.

"You got it, baby." He chuckles, putting together a plan of attack. One which will be executed once he can fully stand on his own two feet.

The toast pops up, and you hastily spread the peanut butter onto it, before gobbling up every last crumb. "Fuck, peanut butter toast never tasted so good." You say with your mouth full, still hunching over the counter. Eddie glances over at you, laughing at the smudge of butter at the left side of your mouth. Crumbs lay about your chest, some sticking into the mess on your lips. "That bad, huh?" You ask after swallowing, reaching for a paper towel to clean yourself up.

"I'm just happy to see you eating, sweetheart. Though it would be dishonest to say it wasn't a tad unladylike." He scrunches his nose, not taking that term seriously. He couldn't give a shit if you were the most improper person in the world, he'd still love you more than anything.

"If there's one thing I've proven time and again, it's that I'm definitely far from 'ladylike'." You practically skip over to him, the feeling of food sitting calmly in your belly has changed your mood significantly. "But you already know that." You let out a bubbly giggle, sitting down beside your ailing lover. You lay your head on his shoulder, humming at how warm he is through his clothes. "What about you? Feeling any better?"

His arm shifts under you, wrapping around your body to pull you closer. "Very much, Y/N." He kisses the top of your head, making your heart melt. "Are you gonna stay over tonight? It's totally fine if you don't. I know you've got that final exam tomorrow." Eddie asks, hoping you'll stay. You make everything better for him, and he hates being apart from you. He supposes his wanting is a bit selfish, you could easily turn up sick if you stick around for too long. But you're the one thing he needs, all the time.

"I'm not going anywhere until the morning, my prince. I brought extra clothes for tomorrow, and that's all I need to show up with, aside from a pencil." You answer cheerily, making his wish come true. His eyes light up at your words, and he pulls you into him for a clumsy kiss.

"You're the best, Y/N. And I just know you're gonna ace that test tomorrow!" He beams, absolutely over the moon to have you in his company all night long.

"You're damn right! I'm not a fuckin' bookworm for nothing!" You joke, making both of you fall into a hearty laugh.

To be continued...

#hippiegoth97 #fanfiction #smut #stranger things #eddie munson #hawkins #1980s #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader

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razzipree · 2 months

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eating dinner and then drawing this image

#HES SO SILLY #I LOVE HIM SO MICH #violently crying and throwing up over him #he’s literally the worst ever #and i adore him

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casekt · 9 months

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#audio #putting my head through a wall saturday #this song makes me think about a few things but rn I'm thinking about LR on top of n beating the shit out of FP (their illegitimate father)#maybe he'd even be interested to know that his child has his explosive violent anger despite them never having met #maybe he'd be proud #it would at least make him smile #LR would be so fucking angry. they're 22 n he's 58 so it's a possibility they could win if he couldn't reach his gun #which he usually carries in a holster the front of his pants so if they're sat on top of him he can't reach it #idk if it would be a blind rage of punching him till he stops moving or a screaming crying spitting clawing thing #probably depends on His reaction #if he says anything. like in the middle of the violence he goes ''you really are my kid'' LR would likely start crying #and get sloppy so if FP really cared to live through that situation he could probably throw them off #but frankly I think he'd find it pretty fitting his adult child he never knew existed would be the one to catch up to him #and he's lived a satisfying life by his standards #this would all be solved if he gave a shit n gave them a hug though lmfao #but he doesn't care #beyond the brief entertainment they could bring him. esp since he could hold power over them #eugh what a guy #love my characters they're personifications of my issues lmfao #and the fact that they have identical eye colors and very similar eye shapes. sheesh.#like looking into your own eyes

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celaenaeiln · 1 year

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Jason: *on private line* Swanhead.

Tim: Red Hood. Don’t call me that. What is it?

Jason: Send me my location, I don’t know where I am.

Tim: Hold-

Dick: *batkids group channel* Hey Baby Bird.

Tim: Nightwing. Again don’t call me-you know what? Nevermind. What’s the problem?

Dick: I need you to send me my location, I got kidnapped overseas.

Tim: Red Hood too.

Jason: Hey! I didn’t get kidnapped, I was violently taken hostage for a minor drug deal that went wrong. Totally different.

Tim: Right.

Jason: Listen here you little shi-

Dick: Oh, Little Wing’s in Belarus. Coordinates: 53.6212, 27.94683 and there’s a bike nearby he can use to get to the aircraft landing space close by but he’ll have to be careful because it’s swarmed by mean-looking guards.

Tim: …..

Jason: Since when are the guards nice-looking?

Dick: Little Wing, when you get kidnapped as often as I do, you get to pick and choose who you like.

Tim: Not getting into that mess but how’d you know Jason’s coordinates?

Dick: Older Sibling’s Intuition!

Tim and Jason: Bullshit.

Tim: Anyway, I’ll send Batman to pick you up.

Dick: Wait, no, Batman will bring Robin and little D just went over to J-Superboy’s house to play video games.

Tim: ….Okay, then I’ll send Batgirl.

Dick: No Batgirl’s throwing it back at a frat party so don’t bother her. She’s winning.

Tim: Orphan.

Dick: No she’s busy dismantling an underground mercenary establishment in Shanghai.

Tim: I’ll-

Dick: Nah, enjoy your date with your golden teddy bear tonight. It’s also a bit of a distance to go from Gotham to Metropolis to pick up your other one.

Tim: OKAY HOW DO YOU KNOW EVERYONE’S LOCATION BUT YOUR OWN?!

Dick: ….Tee Hee 😋✨

Jason: *muffled* did he just “Tee Hee?”

Tim: ….where are the kidnappers, I gotta rescue them.

Dick: *in the background on Dick’s line: sobbing and nonstop muffled thank you’s*

Dick: Whaddya mean? They’re fine. Right, guys? *more crying heard*

Tim: Dick….

Jason: *on private channel* Shushhh. Just let him have this. Still send help though. For them.

#dick grayson #nightwing #tim drake #red robin #jason todd #red hood #batfam incorrect quotes #timberkon #stephanie brown #spoiler #cassandra cain #orphan #damian wayne #robin #bruce wayne #batman

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baynetta · 1 year

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riding miguel would literally be a sport omg the way he’d have to lift you up off his lap because your body is too exhausted

riding miguel! (nsfw)

they should considere it to put it up to a olympic sport atp cause it’s something that just takes a lot of time and work. i definitely feel they’re some days that he would come home and he’ll be more than pleased to give you a hand. but not today. he’ll come so tired of all the late work that he had to indure. you didn’t know how much he crave for it, to have you all by himself. and why not to try something new, now that you had some practice before why not ride him all by yourself. this time, no guidance and definitely not help. at first you’ll be a little bit intimidate by it, having him staring at you, full in display, on your own bed, him observing every minute detail of your performance. it felt like your first time all over again (who btw was with miguel ofc🤭). he’ll grab you by the wrist to get close to his throbbing cock, he’s been painfully hard the whole day, thrilled just for this moment, so he’s now very impatient. “c’mon just sit on it baby” “don’t be acting like a prude right now”-. he muttered as you start to accommodate his tip already glassed in pre-cum on your entrance, you had it grabbed by his base giving it slow strokes, as your going in you feel how it slowly rasps making his way into your cavities, you yelp at the feeling, mostly bcs you didn’t had any prep. he usually will take his time before fucking you, he’ll eat you out and stick his fingers on your tight cunt till it’s fully mixed with both of y’all juices before he can burried his length into you. but not today. he wanted to feel how you strech yourself with his hardness, how good it i’ll start to dilatate and contract while his tip reach for the cervix.

as you were making it fit, you were whimper and sobbing mess and miguel could feel how tensed you were, how he was ripping his way up. “honey. escúpele” he demanded as you’re half way in. you spit on the palm of your hand and start glazing and rubbing his shaft with the mix of your sticky saliva and arousal. you watched miguel throw his head back off, shutting his eyes. fuck he’s been fantasizing about it for so long. and mind you, you haven’t reached to the base yet. abruptly you feel miguel’s hand groping your mushy hips and dragging you all the way down. it felt so violent the way you took him in one sitting, that you cry loudly at being now fulled by him. “fuck that’s it” he spit, you cry as you clench tightly on him, and fuck he’s having way too much fun, “ahora de nuevo”—he hissed while looking proudly at how well your taking him, such a good girl. you go all the way up again, with one hand on his base trying to keep the control of it, and drop slowly until your inner thighs are crashing with his pelvis, fuck it stings badly, you feel how hard his cock is stretching your walls as well your thighs are starting to cramp and burn as it’s holds your entire body weight. you tried to support your hands on miguels defined abs but he just slapped them away, “don’t fucking try it, put em behind”—you wanted to protest be he’s already giving you that “say it o you’ll regret it” look. you put them behind as you start going up again, and get down giving little semi circular movements, hissing as it starts to hit the right spot. “fuck.. que apretadita estás”- you cry as he’s hitting it, over and over again, your legs burning, the way your hips are loosing the tempo making all the movements messy and desperate for a guidence.

the room has been a mixing sounds of grunts, whimpers and sobbing messes, the filthy noises of the headboard slamming and the loud sounds of skin slapping as your crushing down hard and squirming all over him. miguel throwing his head back groaning and mutting the dirtiest praises “fuckk..such. a dirty. slut” “stop crying or i’ll be worse”. he’ll constantly switch his grip between your hips or your bouncing tits, he’ll twisted and squeez it. he fucking enjoying it watching your tired body starting to collapse. your pretty eyes closed, trying to endure all the pain and pleasure coming from all the parts that his hands and cock are abusing. the minutes you been on and on it’s almost miracle that you didn’t faint, as he sees you getting all flustered and sweaty he’ll grab you by the face, “don’t. fucking. stop”—.you can feel now his thumb digging dip in your jaw, making you gasp. you feel your full body start trembling, you try to inhale and exhale but your lower back and thighs went on shock. the exhaustion in your face as you implored and begged for miguel's help. until you just can't help it anymore and drop your weakened body on top of him. miguel inmidiatly will embrace you in warm and intimate hug, lift you up off his lap, stand up while he’s still inside you. he'll leave a trace of kisses from your collarbone up to your face whispering how good you were and now he's gonna take care of you.

pd: the stamina of this guy GOD he’s probably goes on an on all night 🤭

trad:

-spit on it

-now again

-you’re so tight

#.𖥔 ݁ ˖eyza’s mail #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara smut #spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara x you #spiderverse

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astarionxhappiness · 4 months

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Summary: Astarion gets badly injured in a fight, and you have to take care of him while waiting to be found.

Word count: 5,781

Warnings: Astarion being hurt.

It was just another fight.

That was what you thought, at least.

Just another day of danger and adventure.

Never for a second when you woke up that morning did you think you and your companions would be scrambling for your lives.

"Head for the cave!" You heard Shadowheart scream to you over the sounds of the exploding fireballs.

Smoke filled the air thickly, making it hard to see. The thick smoke filled your lungs, making it hard to breath.

Your eyes darted around, trying to find the location she spoke of.

You tensed as a large hand wrapped around your bicep, making you nearly drop your weapon as you were yanked to the left.

Your gaze snapped in the direction of the newcomer, relief washing over you when you laid eyes on Astarion, though he did not seem to share this feeling.

"Things are getting far messier than I care for. I'd say it is time we leave, darling."

He kept a firm grip on your arm, pulling you through the smoke that filled your lungs painfully.

You yelped as you were both suddenly thrown forward by a violent explosion landing not two feet directly behind you, sending both of you flying forward.

The vampire managed to turn himself to land on his shoulder instead of his face, though thanks to the grip on your arm, it made it far more difficult for you to land with similar grace, instead falling direction on top of him causing him to grunt in pain.

"Has anyone ever told you that you weigh far to much to be throwing yourself on people, darling?" He questioned rhetorically, winded from the impact.

"Well next time let's try it with you catching me without my weapons and armor, hm?" You retorted, making him smile.

"Well, so long as you're offering," He replied with a sly smile.

You couldn't help letting out a breathy laugh despite the adrenaline coursing through you, smacking his arm before moving to get off of him.

You yelped when a bolt of lightning suddenly struck right beside the two of you.

You moved instinctively to shield the vampire with your body, looking down at him questioningly as the dirt settled, as though scared something had passed through you to hurt him instead.

He was already looking up at you, seeming taken aback by this show of care, still not used to such acts of love and loyalty.

Neither of you were able to dwell in the moment, though, certain that the next mage would likely not miss.

You yanked him to his feet, grabbing his hand and starting at a blind sprint, squinting through the thick black smoke.

You did not bother looking back for the others as you reached the edge of the smoke cloud, listening to the sounds of battle still going strong in the distance.

"In here," You commanded when you spotted a small hole in the rocks up ahead that you could squeeze into.

His hand still in yours, you took off running.

You were close. so close-

A cry of pain coming from your left was the first indication of something being wrong.

Your head turned, the scene playing out in slow motion before your very eyes as you watched with horror as an arrow slid through Astarion's back, the tip of it shoving violently through the front of his shirt.

Your scream sounded distant to your own ears as you quickly turned to grab him just as he started to fall, his eyes giving away the shock of being impaled.

"Shadowheart!" You screeched, struggling to keep him on his feet.

Now he was heavy.

"No- no nononono-" You felt your stomach in your throat, your heart pounding as you watched blood leaking from the elf's mouth.

"Astarion, don't you dare faint on me! " You cried, wrapping his arm around your shoulders, adrenaline driving you, giving you the strength to practically carry him to the nook that promised you both safety.

You slipped between the narrow walls of stone, panting as you carefully sat him down.

"Star, hey, look at me," You pleaded as his eyes seemed unable to focus.

"I don't. . I don't feel well, love" he murmured distractedly, sounding dazed.

"Hey, hey--look at me! It's not that bad. It's not even that bad. Just breathe," You ordered through tears that started to well in your eyes, your dirty hands coming to cup his equally messy face as you pressed your forehead to his.

"Just focus, okay? You're gonna be okay. I have some healing potions, and Shadowheart is gonna find us" Despite your assurances, you couldn't stop the sob that left you, desperately petting his face before moving off to grab the potion. "Drink, okay? Just drink." You put the rim to his lips, a hand under his chin to help him drink, using your other hand to help tilt his head back.

"Do you remember when we first met?" He murmured distractedly when he finished, his head falling back against the rock behind him.

"Yeah," You whispered. "Of course I do." You went to looking at the arrow, whimpering as you listened to him cough, a small bit of blood and liquid from the potion coming up.

"You were so unsuspecting. . I never told you this, but I always felt bad for trying to kill you. . " You looked up at him, sniffling as you leaned forward to press your face against the side of his.

"No, no don't feel bad. You aren't supposed to feel bad. You're supposed to b-be unremorseful, and cocky and-" You cut off when your throat constricted too tightly for you to speak. "Please," You whispered, letting out a soft, helpless sob. "You're gonna be okay. I don't want you to be embarrassed telling me this when you're better because you are gonna be better." You grabbed another healing potion, though you knew it was futile. The arrow he had been hit with had a poison on it. And unless you could get him a healer, no amount of the potions or magic you could offer him would fix it.

he let out a soft laugh, grimacing in pain, brows furrowing.

"I won' be embarrassed," He replied dizzily. "I want you to know that. . That I care about you, okay?" he took in a deep breath, letting out a slight laugh before whimpering in pain.

The sound shattered your heart.

He brought his hand up to cup your cheek, rubbing his thumb tenderly against your soft skin, wiping away a tear.

You grabbed at his wrist with both hands, bloodying it in the process due to having been trying to mess with the wound to help it stop bleeding so much.

"I love you," You whispered. "You aren't allowed to leave me, do you understand? I won't let you. I'm gonna figure this out. We're gonna get you help." You could still hear the sounds of commotion outside, making your stomach churn.

The others could still be out there. In need of help, or dead. .

You pushed this thought away, knowing it would do nothing good to think about.

There was nothing you could do right now. You had no way to know where they were, and running back into the fight would only put yourself in danger, and possibly cause complications for the others.

You simply needed to have faith that they had made it to the cave Shadowheart had seen. Or, better yet, were heading this way now. .

"Star?" You whispered when his eyes started to lull shut.

"Astarion?" No response.

"Hey! Astarion, stay with me!" You grabbed at his shoulders as his hand slipped off your cheek, panic washing over you as you shook his upper half, careful not to cause more damage to his body as you did so.

You cursed, grabbing the knife you had from your boot and quickly cutting a line over the vein in your wrist before pressing it to his mouth, praying to god that it would give him enough strength to last a bit longer while you waited for help.

"Astarion, please wake up," You whispered desperately. "Please. . I need you."

It was a terrifying fifteen seconds before his eyes came open, having managed to get enough of the liquid down.

"Oh, thank god," You cried, keeping your wrist to his mouth, which he awkwardly adjusted around with a soft grunt

His eyes fell shut as he groaned, absently sucking, feeling far better with the strength it offered him.

"We need to get this arrow out of you," You said, looking down at it. "I'm going to need to break off the tip, and pull the sides out before I can give you the last potion. It should help with the bleeding at least."

He nodded dizzily, unable to respond verbally as he kept his mouth against your wrist.

"I'm sorry, but I am going to need both hands for this," You infromed him regreatfully, pulling away when you felt he had had enough to keep him conscious for the time being.

"Gods- Could you not have woken me up after you pulled the arrow out?" He complained as he felt you cutting into the end of the arrow sticking out of the front of his torso.

"No!" you replied heatedly. "Because I can't handle thinking I am going to lose you, and that means you are going to need to stay conscious, do you understand??" You looked up at him with what looked to be anger, but he recognized it to be pure and utter terror.

He couldn't help smiling. A truly unseemly sight due to the blood smeared over his lips, chin and teeth. Not to mention the greying notes of his skin as the poison started to take over.

Still, he was your unseemly sight. And you would do anything for the elf. Even if that meant whipping a miracle magically out of nowhere to save his sorry ass.

"Gods!" He cried out as he felt a sudden pressure on the wound when you managed to break off the arrowhead, careful not to touch it as you chucked it to the other side of the small nook.

"I know," You whispered. Pained.

"I am not entirely sure you actually do, darling," He retorted breathlessly. "I don't see an arrow sticking out of your rib cage!"

"It isn't in your ribcage, dear" You replied, pressing a rag to the wound, causing him to hiss.

" . . Regardless," He went on dizzily. "My point remains. ."

You looked up at him, frowning as you watched him try to keep his eyes focused.

You knew the blood wouldn't hold him for long. He was more lucid, but you could see the first signs of him already starting to slip away again.

"Just focus," You whispered.

"I am gonna have to lay you on your stomach. This is going ot hurt, I'm so, so sorry, Star." You took in a shaky breath, willing yourself to be strong for him. Doing your best to argue and keep him engaged.

"Wasn't I already?" He asked in confusion, making your heart sink,

"No, " You replied, bringing your hand to cup his cheek. "No, you're sitting up right now. . But I need you to lay down on your stomach. Just let me guide you, alright? Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you" he retorted, feeling your hands come up to help him maneuver carefully onto the ground.

He grunted, face smushing into the dirt.

"What sort of question even is that, darling?" He continued on, your heart twisting.

"A silly question," You murmured, moving over to sit on the backs of his legs, knowing he was probably going to try and flail when you did this.

"I need you to stay as still as you can for me, okay, Star?" he simply nodded in response, letting out a soft, dizzy groan.

You grasped the arrow carefully with both hands, surprised when you found it to be slippery with blood, only then realizing you had never staunched the bleeding from your wrist.

You grabbed a cloth quickly to offer a better grip, taking a deep breath before slowly and carefully starting to remove the long length of wood from his flesh, listening with a sickened displeasure to the mewls of pain that left his lips, his body writhing beneath you as he fought to try and make the pain stop.

"I'm sorry," You cried, throat tight. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry- It's gonna be over in just a second, I promise- I'm so sorry-" You took in a shaky breath as your resolve to stay strong was crumbling listening to the tortured sounds leave him in an unfiltered stream.

"Please," He gasped, the plea desperate and weak.

"Please make it stop-" He cried out as the last inch of the arrow slipped suddenly from his back, the resistance it had been offering you having suddenly stopped, making you go faster than you had intended.

"Okay okayokay, it's done, it's gone," You whimpered, bending down and peppering loving kisses to his shoulder as he panted in pain beneath you.

"You're okay," You went on, moving off of him and grabbing another rag quickly to press it to the wound, making him grunt.

"It's okay. . Hey, let me help you sit up, okay? You need the other healing potion." You quickly wiped away the tears blurring your eyes, replacing it with a thin layer of blood instead.

He offered you his hand to take, allowing you to help him sit up before he promptly fell backwards against the rocks, groaning as he did so.

"This is no fun," He deduced, breath heavy and shallow.

You shook your head miserably.

"Not in the fucking slightest," You stated, moving to press into his side as you gave him the last potion.

"This is the last one," You whispered. "But you can feed on me, to keep up your strength, okay?" You flinched as a firebolt struck right in front of the opening to your hide away, your heart pounding in your chest.

"I think I'd just like to sleep actually, if tha's alright with you, darling" He murmured, finding himself completely exhuasted.

"No- Hey, no you have to stay awake- Astarion!" You gave his shoulder a stressful shake, making him open his eyes again.

"Come on. Drink" You held up the potion to his lips, helping him swallow it back.

It managed to heal his wounds enough that he would not die from them. But it did little good against the poison working its way through his veins.

he coughed as he choked on some of the liquid, bringing a hand up to wipe off his lips, bloodying it in the process.

"Good," You breathed, pressing your forehead against his shoulder in relief when you felt his stomach stop bleeding.

"Just feed, okay? The others will find us. I'm sure of it." You shut your eyes as you brought your still bleeding wrist up for him, feeling his fangs sink in to the skin tiredly, though he did manage to still find the strength to bring a hand up to hold the back of yours, keeping your wrist in place as he gently sucked, swallowing the crimson liquid gratefully.

You hid the grimace of pain against his shoulder, willing to suffer far greater if it meant your sweet vampire being okay.

Though after a time, you were beginning to feel quite light headed.

Astarion had gotten quite good the past few months with learning to control his feeding so as not to hurt you, but with the poison affecting his thoughts, and making him barely conscious, he was right back to being absent-minded with it.

You didn't care at the moment. If he needed it, you would provide.

You would offer every last drop of your being if it meant buying him enough time for someone to find him and help.

You felt tears absently leaking down your face as you stayed curled up against him, your free arm wrapped around his back, holding him weakly so his side was pressing against your chest.

"I love you," You whispered, praying to any and all gods that might have been listening, willing to spare him.

You shut your eyes tightly as twin tears dripped down your cheeks.

You hesitated when you felt his grip on your hand loosen, and he let your hand fall from his lips.

You looked up at him, sniffling.

You were relieved to find that he had not stopped due to losing consciousness, but rather of his own volition.

"I . . I love you too, you know," He murmured hesitantly, never having actually been brave enough to say the words back.

You sniffled again, cupping his cheek dizzily as you brought your head up to press against the side of his hair, eyes shutting tightly as you let out a quiet sob, leaving a long, tender smooch to the side of his head after a moment.

"I know," You whispered. "That is why I know you're gonna be strong, and fight through this." you put a hand over the wound, sniffling once more as you tried to control your tears.

He smiled slightly as he looked down at you, his eyes unable to focus properly as he did so, seeing blurry doubles.

"Is it cold in here?" He asked absently, feeling a bit chilly.

You frowned.

Though it was perhaps cooler than it was outside, it certainly was not a temperature that should have bothered the elf under normal circumstances.

You put the back of your hand to his dirty forehead, stomach twisting as your fears were confirmed.

"You're getting a fever, I think," You informed him. "Most likely from the poison. ."

"We can't start a fire, I'm sorry." If the poor ventilation wasn't a problem, the attention that the light of the fire could draw most certainly would be.

"That's well," He assured. "I can just use you as a blanket instead, my sweet." He smiled at you somewhat cheekily, making you bite your lip.

"Happily," You replied, shutting your eyes when he leaned down to press his lips against yours in a soft kiss.

You laid him down carefully, watching him shiver unpleasantly due to the cold ground.

"Let me take off you shirt, okay?" You said, moving your hands down to work on getting his dirty, blood soaked armor off.

"As much as I love pleasing you, my love, I don't think I am in the shape for such activities at the moment," He replied breathlessly.

"Gods- It is to share body head, Astarion!" You objected, running a hand worriedly through the front of his hair to brush it off his brow.

"Hmm. . Sure," He replied with a sideways smile, eyes lulling shut.

You ignored him, working quickly to get his upper half exposed. You used rags to quickly cover the wounds with to keep out dirt before doing the same to your own clothing, the thin fabric covering your breasts the only thing between you two as you laid down and pressed your body against his.

You pulled the pile of clothing over the two of you for insolation, feeling him shiver as he wrapped his arms around you, coughing absently as he did so, his throat feeling a little flemmy.

You wrapped your arms around him, cradling his head against your shoulder as you laid halfway on top of him, acting as a human blanket as best you could.

You cursed yourself for having dropped your scrolls during the fight. You had had one or two that would have been rather handy to help keep him comfortable while you waited on the others.

You made him feed every hour or so. The second you started to feel that you wouldn't pass out if he drank, you let him.

His fever developed into something quite unpleasant as the hours passed, his shivering now constant, his coughing coming every minute or so as his body tried to fight off the invasion.

It should have killed him by now. By all rights, the vampire spawn should have been a full corpse in your arms as night fell. And yet, he was still with you. Fighting and struggling to remain conscious.

Though not without a great many complaints and a good stream of whining.

Still, you did not care. You would listen to him complain and whine the rest of your life, and be grateful for it so long as it meant he was still with you.

"The others will find us," You assured for the thirteenth time in the past ten minutes, the fever making him quite absent-minded.

"But how do you know?" He asked in concern for the eleventh time also in the past ten minutes.

"Because I do. I have faith." He huffed at this.

"faith. . Like Shadowheart has faith in her dark mistress? Or Wyll has faith we will actually free him from his contract?" You gave him a look.

"I don't put my faith in gods, or higher powers, Astarion. I put my faith in my friends. my family." you pulled closer to him as he sighed.

"You always were soft, darling," He lamented. "And I may very well die for it."

He grunted when you smacked his arm.

"The only way you are going to die is if I kill you, now shut up and be comforted." You pressed your body against him tighter, cradling his head protectively.

he smiled absently, chuckling as he allowed himself to press closer to you in return, feeling the comfort.

You were maybe optimistic and youthful in your faith in people, but you were certainly forceful and hard headed as well.

He whimpered as a particularly bad chill ran through him, eyes shutting as he tried to focus on your warmth.

You frowned softly to yourself.

He was burning up.

Well, for him, at least. For someone who was alive, it would have felt more like being a little overheated rather than feverish.

"I've got you," You cooed, running your fingers through his hair damp soothingly.

"Just focus on my voice, okay? We are going to get through this. And when we do, I'll take you to a nice tavern, hm? With a warm room and a soft bed. . And we can just lay there as long as we like, and enjoy ourselves, and drink fine wine. . " You listened as he took in a deep breath, relaxing as he allowed himself to latch on the to comforting fantasy.

"That sounds rather nice, darling," He murmured sleepily, another deep inhale coming and going before he coughed softly to clear his throat.

You kissed his temple lingeringly as you continued to smooth his hair back with your hand, listening for any signs of fighting or, hopefully, the sounds of a rescue.

Neither arrived however as you listened.

You swallowed heavily as you brought your hand up for him again, feeling your arm shake with the effort it took to hold it up to him.

You knew that your body was not making enough blood to replenish the stock he was taking, but you didn't care. you had to make it work.

You shut your eyes as you felt his fangs graze over the wounds he had already created the past few hours, though you looked at him questioningly when he grunted, shaking his head as he softly pushed your hand away.

"Star you need to feed," You said with a frown, looking down at him worriedly, unsure if it wasn't enough anymore to keep him going.

"No," He breathed, shaking his head, eyes remaining shut. "No. . I can feel your hand shaking. You sound weak. . I won't take anymore from you. . I will be okay without it for now, love." He turned to face you, coughing softly.

You stared at him silently, unsure what to do with that.

You felt you stomach twisting with love for him.

Even in a state of certain death, he didn't want to hurt you. . And yet, you needed him to, if it meant ensuring he would be okay. .

"I will be alright," You murmured reassuringly, shifting down tiredly to come face to face with him. "I promise. Don't worry about me right now, okay? I've got it." You brushed your nose over his. "I've got you."

He opened his eyes just a crack to look at you.

You were almost as pale as he was, and the weakness pushing you towards sleep was difficult to miss.

He shook his head softly, clearing his throat once more.

"No . . I will be fine," He replied, pressing his forehead against yours softly.

you sighed, knowing it would do little good to argue with him about it. Neither of you had the energy for it anyhow.

"Alright. . In a few minutes then, okay?"

"An hour," He compromised, though you frowned.

"Fine. . An hour." It would be the shortest damn hour that man ever experienced.

Ten minutes passed, and you nudged him again.

"Its time," You murmured. "You need to feed." You offered him your wrist, eyes shut.

"That was an hour?" He questioned in groggy confusion, shivering softly against you.

"Mhm, whole hour," You replied, with a tired nod.

"Hm. . " He did not offer anything more, finding himself unable to muster the strength to feed again.

He was getting less and less each time, and as the poison spread through him, it was becoming less effective as it grew stronger inside of him.

"Star, you need to feed," You murmured after a long silence, struggling to stay awake yourself.

"Star. . ?" You forced your eyes open when you realized his shivering had stilled.

Your heart stopped, your entire body going cold as you looked up at his unmoving form.

You brought a hand up to put two fingers under his nose to check for breathing.

"Oh, god," You whispered with horror.

"Astarion, love, wake up," You pleaded, sitting up dizzily and trying to force more blood down his throat.

It wasn't enough though, and you knew it.

Your heart was racing, making you feel like you were going to pass out.

There was only one thing you could think to do at this point.

You were out of time waiting. If he was to die anyway, then you were more than willing to risk going with him if it meant he had even a slim chance of getting help before it was too late.

You got up on shaky feet, stumbling with your hand guiding you against the rocks as you made your way for the exit of the alcove, mustering all the energy you had left inside of you to channel it all into your chest, your breathing picking up as your started to feeling it go into your shoulders and down your arms, tingling your hands with such power that it felt like it was going to consume your very essence.

The energy shot from you fingertips high into the sky as the words to cast the spell left you lips in a scream that released every ounce of your fear and desperation. The bolt of yellow energy tore through you, stealing every drop of energy you had left to offer.

It was, in a word, glorious.

People would have been able to see it for miles, the sound cracking like thunder, the force of it shaking the ground beneath your very feet.

A beacon that with any luck would offer a way for the rest of your party to find you.

You never even felt your body hit the ground, laying crumpled in a heap just outside the rocks where your beloved remained barely holding on to the last threads of life in him. .

Your eyes opened blearily, looking around you in a daze.

The first thing you recognized was the feeling of something warm curled against you, and the familiar scent that accompanied it.

You looked over, heart skipping a beat when you found your white haired elf snuggling against your side, passed out, but a normal, healthy temperature and complexation.

You felt your breath hitch as tears welled in your eyes with relief.

"There she is," You heard Wyll's voice from the entrance of the doorway.

You looked over, wiping the water from your eyes as you gave him a smile, letting out a breathy gasp.

"That was quite the scare you two gave us," He said as he moved over, sitting down by your bedside.

"We found you with mere seconds to spare," Another voice added, and Gale appeared to lean in the doorway with a smile.

A scoff followed, and you couldn't help smiling more as Shadowheart appeared.

"Hardly," She corrected. "Ignore Gale's exaggerations, Tav." She gave the wizard a look, who merely returned it with a smile, his arms loosely crossed in a relaxed position over his chest.

"Allow for the dramatic every once in a while, will you? "Either way, you showed quite the surge of power back there," He went on, sounding proud. "I shudder to think what you'd be capable of if you ever agreed to study under my teachings." You smiled a little more, letting out a breathy laugh.

"Perhaps after things settle down a little," You replied fondly.

Shadowheart moved to kneel beside the bed next to where Wyll sat.

"How are you feeling?" She asked, looking concerned.

"Tired," Was the honest response, "But I'll be fine." Though you cared little about your own state.

You looked over to Astarion. Wyll read the questions of worry immediately, and took your hand reassuringly.

"He will be just fine," He promised. "There is no need to worry about him. He is back to his normal self, more or less. He fought three separate nurses to lay in bed with you. Though perhaps now that you are awake, you might convince him to bathe and allow for his own treatment of care."

You bit your lip, looking over at the warlock and nodding, taking in a deep breath as you lovingly squeezed his hand.

"He does smell a bit, doesn't he," You whispered emotionally, letting out a quiet laugh as Shadowheart joined in.

"I suppose even vampires need a bath now and again to remain fresh," She replied playfully.

You laughed again, sounding on the verge of tears.

"Thank you," You said, looking between the three of them, throat tight.

"I don't know what I would do without all of you." You sniffled as they quickly moved in on you, crowding you for a suffocating hug, getting Astarion in the process as well.

"Can't a vampire get some bloody rest with his beloved anymore?" The grouchy creature objected as the action of their affections woke him from his much needed nap.

They retracted their affections quickly, allowing Astarion to see that your eyes were finally open, your body moving. .

"Come, I suspect these two are going to want a moment to themselves," Gale commented with a smile when Astarion's expression changed when he found you to be conscious.

You gave the three a farewell, looking back to Astarion who was already staring at you as though you had been brought back from the dead.

You did not even get the chance to speak before two cool hands cupped your face, and his lips smashed against yours in an emotional, adoring kiss.

You shut your eyes dizzily, winded from the sudden passion.

Your hands came up to mimic the hold he had you in, running your thumb tenderly against his sharp cheekbone, your stomach twisting with relief and joy.

You gasped when he finally allowed you air once more, your hands remaining on one another's face, staring silently into each others eyes for a time.

"I thought I'd lost you," He whispered, sounding choked. "Don't you dare think about doing that to me again," He added with angry vehemence, kissing you again before you could speak.

"You are one to talk," You retorted when you were finally allowed to do so, grabbing his waist and pushing him from on top of you to instead lay facing one another.

"You- God, Astarion, I thought I had lost you!" You felt your throat tighten, pressing your forehead against his as you shut your eyes tightly, a leg slipping to rest between his.

"That is apparently something I'm completely incapable of handling. So you are just- You are going to have to avoid doing anything like that ever again, do you understand?- No, forget that- You are never leaving our camp again!- No, never mind- I'm making Gale make a bubble for you, and you will just live in that bubble, safe for the rest of your life!-" You cut off to the sound of his laughing, the sound making your heart swell.

"Stop laughing at me, I am dead serious!" You said, doing your best to stay forceful despite his laugh being utterly contagious.

it was positively turning your insides to mush.

"Very well, darling," He said, smiling as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you flush against him. "But only if you agree to live in this bubble of yours with me." You smiled, bringing your fingertips to run over the side of his face tenderly.

"Deal," You murmured, soothed by his tender touch and calm voice.

He sighed softly, leaning forward to kiss you gently before pulling away again.

"But honestly, darling, if you ever sleep for two days straight after creating what the others described as 'the most powerful burst of energy they have ever seen in their lives' ever again, you will be answering to my wrath. Are we clear?" You grinned as he pulled you closer.

"We're clear," You murmured fondly, looking up at him with doe eyes.

"Good," He murmured, putting a hand on the side of your head as he left a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, your eyes shutting with blissful relief.

"Now, what do you say to a bath?" You questioned, putting a hand on his chest. "The others are complaining about your . . intoxicating scent." You grinned as you spoke.

"Hmm. . Five more minutes," He decided, pulling you ever closer and shutting his eyes.

You took in a deep breath, more than content with this decision, happy to lay with him longer than a mere five minutes should he decide he desired longer. . .

A/N Thank you my lovies for reading! If you have interest in being notified when I put out a new fic, shoot me a message and I will tag you as I put them out. :)

1K notes · View notes

theostrophywife · 5 months

Text

darling, you look divine.

pairing: regulus black x reader.

song inspiration: eyes don't lie by isabel larosa.

author's note: screaming, crying, throwing up. if regulus looked at me like that, i'd be wetter than the black lake. please enjoy my darlings 🤎

The first symptom reared its ugly head early Monday morning.

You were in the Great Hall eating breakfast with James, Remus, Sirius, and Peter when your skin suddenly felt like you were being engulfed by fiendfyre. The burning heat spread through your entire body, making you feel flushed and flustered. Your fork clattered against the table while you wiped the sweat off of your brow with clammy hands.

“Are you feeling alright, love?” asked Sirius.

You shook your head, fanning yourself. “Does anyone else feel hot all of a sudden? It feels like I’m getting burned alive.”

The boys shook their heads. Remus laid the back of his hand against your forehead. “You’re burning up, Y/N. I think you might be pitching a fever.”

James pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and squinted. “Moony’s right. You’re sweating profusely and you look a bit peaked.”

Peter nodded in agreement. “It might be that new dragon flu that’s going around. Maybe you should head back to the dorms, Y/N.”

“I can’t miss class. There’s an assignment due in Transfiguration.”

Just then, a violent cramp seized your lower abdomen. You gripped the edge of the dining table so hard that you felt the wood splinter underneath your palm. Padfoot’s eyes widened at the appearance of your claws. It had only been a month since Sirius helped you summon your Animagus form and while you still had much to learn, you’ve never lost control like this before.

You needed to get out of there. Transforming into a giant snow leopard in the middle of the Great Hall would be very, very bad.

“Don’t worry about McGonagall,” Sirius said in a stern voice. “We’ll cover for you. Now come on, I’ll walk you back to your room.”

Fortunately, you managed to reach Gryffindor tower with no other incidents. After Sirius escorted you back to your dorm, he barred the door with magic and promised to check up on you after class.

The cramps only worsened. It felt like someone had buried a dagger into your stomach and was now twisting and turning it as they pleased. You doubled over in pain and clutched the poster of your canopy bed before curling up into a ball in the middle of your mattress. Not even your period cramps compared to this torment.

When you thought it couldn’t get any worse, an overwhelming ache blossomed between your thighs and made you groan with need. You twisted in your sheets and pressed your legs together to counteract the wave of lust coursing through your veins, but it only made it worse. You felt empty and hollow and the overwhelming desire to be filled was the only thing you could think about.

This was different from the surge of adolescent hormones that you had grown so familiar with. The desire was a living thing, sinking its claws into your very being. You felt feral, animalistic.

You burrowed into your pillows, your breaths growing ragged as you tried to regain control. A demanding knock against your door broke your concentration. You sniffed the air, whining softly as the intoxicating scent of eucalyptus, bergamot, and sandalwood overpowered your heightened senses. A part of you recalled the warning Sirius left you with. You were not, under any circumstances, supposed to open the door unless it was him or one of the boys on the other side, but the temptation was too strong.

As the knocks grew more insistent, the scent shifted into something sharper. You felt yourself drawn to it and before long, you were opening the door to satiate your curiosity. The person standing on the other side made your stomach lurch.

“Regulus,” you said through gritted teeth. The very presence of the younger Black brother made your entire body shake as you contended against the urge to transform. It was a losing battle. You could feel your canines elongating, making your gums feel sore and achy. “Now is not a good time.”

In fact, it was the worst bloody fucking time. On a normal day, you could barely tolerate Regulus. His surly attitude and cutting glare certainly left little to be desired. Then there was the matter of his falling out with Sirius, which only served to heighten the tension between you. When Professor McGonagall chose to make you partners, you at least attempted to keep things civil. Whatever was going on between your best friend and his younger brother was none of your business, but Regulus had practically made it impossible to stay impartial.

You had never met a broodier, haughtier, snootier arsehole than Regulus Arcturus Black. The pureblood prick acted like he was a prince amongst peasants just because he happened to be born into the right bloodline. Yet a muggleborn like yourself had managed to take the top spot in every class. A spot that previously belonged to him.

To be expected, Regulus wasn’t the least bit pleased about this. He was even less thrilled when McGonagall tasked him to drop off the latest lecture notes so that you wouldn’t fall behind in class. If she hadn’t threatened to deduct points from his house for refusing, Regulus would’ve never set foot in the godforsaken lion’s den.

He pushed his way inside, not bothering to wait for a proper invitation. “Here are the notes from class,” Regulus stated stiffly. “We’re required to transform a thimble into a thestral. I suggest you read up. I’ll not have you dragging me down just because you fancied playing hooky for the day.”

“I’m not skipping for the bloody hell of it,” you snapped. “If I had a choice, I would be in class not doubled over in pain—”

Regulus caught you just before you hit the ground. The dizzy spell had come out of nowhere, nearly knocking you to the floor from the sheer force of its effects. As Regulus snaked his arm around your waist, you almost wished it had. His scent hit you all at once. You whimpered as he tucked you against his side, feeling the heat of his touch even under all your layers of clothing.

The ringing in your ears subsided enough for you to hear the panic in Regulus’ voice. “Y/N, can you hear me? Are you alright?”

You pushed him off with what little strength remained in your body. “Thank you for the notes, but I’d appreciate it if you left.”

“No,” Regulus said.

“What do you mean, no?

“I mean, no. Do you want to hear it in French? Non.”

You frowned, clutching your stomach. The cramps were starting again, but it was different this time. The ache in your lower abdomen was excruciating and your current proximity to Regulus only seemed to make it worse. The slickness between your thighs certainly didn’t help the matter. It was humiliating, plain and simple.

“Get the fuck out, Regulus!”

Regulus caught your wrist. His fingers felt like ice against your overheated skin. “You don’t want that, darling. Not when I’m the only person who can help.”

“You know what’s wrong with me?”

He sighed. “Of course my brother would convince you to turn without thinking about the side effects. Classic Sirius, honestly.” You glared at him to get on with it. “You’re in heat, Y/N.”

You grimaced. There was no way in Godric’s green earth. “Like…a cat?”

Regulus smirked. “Is that what you transform into, little kitten?” You pursed your lips, which caused him to roll his eyes. “Please, I know your merry band of misfits have all conjured an animagus form. There’s no use hiding it. So what are you? A fuzzy little Persian cat?”

“No,” you said rather haughtily. Did he have to be so irritating? “My form is a snow leopard.”

“Still a kitten,” he responded with a shit eating grin. “The same rules apply. You’ll be in heat for at least a week, mon chaton.”

“You mean I have to suffer for seven whole days? This is hell. It feels like my uterus is being ripped apart. How am I supposed to endure this pain for an entire week?”

“Well, there are ways to find relief.”

“What kind of ways?”

Regulus gave you a knowing look. “You’re a smart girl. I’m sure you can figure it out. What’s the purpose of heat?”

“Reproduction,” you answered almost instantly. The realization left your mouth before your brain could even process it. Oh, you have got to be kidding. This was some sort of cruel joke. For Merlin’s fucking sake! This was horrifying. Downright humiliating. “You can’t possibly mean…”

The grin on the stupid twat’s face was growing wider by the second. “You don’t necessarily have to have sex,” he said in an amused tone. “An orgasm will do. I’m sure you can manage that with your fingers, can’t you princess?”

You swallowed thickly. “I—I’ve never—“

Was it possible to die from embarrassment? Discussing the details of your sex life would’ve been humiliating under any circumstance, but this? Standing here, telling Regulus fucking Black what you were about to tell him, this was truly rock bottom.

“Don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”

“No!” you snapped. You’ve had your fair share of experience in that department, no matter how awkward they might’ve been. “I’ve had sex, I just haven’t…”

“You’ve never had an orgasm?” Regulus said, entirely perplexed. “Not even once?”

You crossed your arms defensively, which turned out to be a big mistake. On top of everything else that you were already suffering through, your breasts now felt sore and sensitive.

“No,” you conceded with a sigh. “I don’t need you judging me for it either, so if you’re quite done then please get the bloody hell out of my dorm.”

It may have been your imagination, but you could’ve sworn that Regulus softened just a little bit. He at least loosened his grip on your wrist, rubbing up your arm in a gesture that might’ve been soothing if it weren’t coming from him.

“I’m not judging you. If anything, I’m judging whoever it is that failed to make you finish. It’s quite rude to leave a lady unsatisfied.”

“What would you even know about satisfying a woman, Regulus?”

“Trust me, darling. I know plenty.” Your cheeks heated as he traced circles on your forearm. “Tell me, kitten. Have you ever touched yourself?”

The conversation should have ended there. You should’ve put a stop to it. But this bloody fucking heat was doing strange things to your body. Your hormones were out of control and Regulus was standing way too close for comfort. So close that you could see the little golden flecks in his emerald eyes. So close that one of his curls was tickling your cheek. So close that those full, pillowy lips were mere inches away from your own.

He smirked when your gaze dipped down to his mouth. “My eyes are up here, Y/N and I asked you a question. The polite thing to do is answer.”

“Since when have you ever cared about being polite?”

“I don’t, but I think you and I are playing a very dangerous game here and I quite enjoy sparring with you, ma cherie.” Regulus tilted your chin up and cradled your jaw. “So, have you or have you not touched yourself?”

You glared up at him defiantly; a last ditch effort to keep your dignity intact. “No,” you said with your head held high. “I’ve never touched myself and I’ve never had an orgasm. Are you happy now, Regulus?”

“Quite the opposite,” he murmured. Regulus caressed your bottom lip with his thumb and tilted his head back to study you. His eyes were almost black when they flickered back up to meet yours. “I could teach you.”

“You want to teach me how to…”

“Masturbate. Wank. Get yourself off?” Regulus listed matter-of-factly. “Yes. Yes, I do, ma chérie.”

It should’ve been a no-brainer. This was a terrible, horrible fucking idea. An absolute hot mess that would yield calamitous results, but the ache in your core was too painful to ignore and you were willing to try just about anything to find relief. Including trusting someone you absolutely loathed.

“Fine. You can teach me, but that’s it. None of this goes any further than that.”

Regulus smirked. “I won’t touch you, princess. Not until you beg me to.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “So?”

He nodded behind you. “Get on the bed.”

That was easy enough. You crawled into your mattress and sat cross legged on top of your sheets. “Not like that. Lie down on your back and take those ghastly pajamas off.”

Arsehole. You happened to like your red and gold striped bottoms, but to be fair, they were in the way. The mattress dipped beneath him as Regulus positioned himself at the very edge of the bed. He leaned against the wooden poster, his gaze transfixed on the sight before him.

“I wouldn’t have taken you as a red lace lingerie type of girl, mon chaton.” You frowned in response, which only made him chuckle. “As pretty as those panties are, you’ll need to take them off as well.”

You hesitated, hooking your thumb over the waistband of your knickers. Regulus raised a brow as if he were challenging you to back out. Like he half-expected you to be too scared to continue. He seriously underestimated that infamous brashness that Gryffindors were so well known for.

He inhaled sharply as you slipped out of your panties and tossed the discarded lace next to him. “Spread your legs, sweetheart.”

For once, you kept silent and did what you were told. Regulus nodded tightly. “Wider. Yeah, just like that.”

“What now?” you asked, trying to keep yourself from blushing at this totally undignified position. You were way past embarrassment now.

“Run a finger through your folds,” Regulus said, his voice sounding huskier than it did a second ago. He watched with dark eyes as you stroked your core. “Fuck, you’re soaked. I can see it on your fingers.”

You took a deep breath, feeling that tension coil in your lower abdomen. Every fiber of your being buzzed with lust. “Stroke yourself, kitten. Imagine that it’s someone else touching you.”

With your eyes closed, you let his voice guide you through the steps. You hated to admit it, but he was good at this. “Use your own slick to make it easier, darling. Gather it before rubbing your clit. That’s it, just like that. There’s a good girl.”

The words spurred you on, your fingers working that sensitive bundle of nerves to find release. You could feel the budding orgasm. It was spreading through you, setting your teeth on edge. You were close, so close.

When the momentum dropped, you nearly cried out of frustration. If you thought you were in pain before, this was ten-fold of that. For some reason, there was some sort of mental block that you couldn’t get past.

You looked up, your lower lip trembling. “I can’t do it. There’s this block and I freeze up and I just can’t do it on my own.”

Regulus looked unhinged. Like he was going to jump out of his skin any second. You’ve never seen him like this. Anything other than calm and collected was out of character for the youngest Black.

“Will you help me?” you whispered. To be honest, you weren’t above begging at this point.

He looked utterly conflicted. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/N. You’re in heat. I don’t want to take advantage when you’re in such a vulnerable state.”

You shook your head. “You wouldn’t be taking advantage. I know I’m hormonal, but oddly enough, I trust you. You know how to keep a secret. Just please, Regulus. I’m in so much pain.”

Regulus was silent for a moment. He seemed to be in deep contemplation. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re aware of what you’re asking for and who you’re asking it from?”

“I am perfectly aware, thank you very much. Is this the most brilliant idea I’ve ever had? Fuck no. Do I still want to do it anyways? Fuck yes.”

The two of you stared at one another. Regulus clenched his jaw and then unclenched it. Finally, he sighed in resignation.

“C’mere then.”

He positioned himself against the headboard, his back pressed up on the wood. Regulus bent his long legs and pulled you against him, your back resting against the solid plane of his chest. You sighed as he rubbed soothing circles upon your skin, his rings kissing your hips with their cold bite. He shuffled behind you, adjusting himself just as you caught a glimpse of the two of you in your vanity mirror.

Regulus stuck his middle and pointer finger into his mouth, making sure they were nice and wet before he moved them lower. You whimpered as he caressed the inside of your thigh and clutched the sheets as he teased along your crease. When he stroked along your wetness, a choked moan escaped from your lips.

“Gods, you’re fucking dripping.” His cold breath fanned over your neck just as he plunged his fingers deep within you. “Salazar fucking save me, you’re even tighter than I imagined.”

His strokes were languid, small ministrations as he buried his fingers inside of you. The cold metal rings that adorned his slender fingers hit your pubic bone every time he thrusted inside of you, but it wasn’t painful. In fact, seeing the Black heirloom ring soaked in your wetness might’ve been the most erotic sight you’ve ever witnessed.

You whimpered as his other hand disappeared underneath your shirt. “Can I touch you here, princess?”

The sound that came out of you barely sounded human. It was a purr more than anything. Regulus caressed your ribs with his knuckles. “I need words, kitten.”

“You can touch me, Regulus.”

Fire skittered along your skin as his hand traveled further up. He palmed you through your bra before he slipped under the fabric and squeezed your breast. Regulus paid equal attention to both of your breasts, admiring the curve and swell of them as he picked up the pace of his fingers. You moaned as he pinched your nipples, which only made you wetter still.

You fisted his curls in one hand as he curved them inside of you. Regulus chuckled darkly, pleased by your reaction. “Right there? Does that feel good, princess?”

“Yes,” you breathed. “Yes, gods that’s perfect.”

“You’re doing so well, ma cherie. That’s it. Ride my fingers just like that. Feels good, yeah?”

You nodded, blinking at the image in the mirror. Regulus had his hands all over you, his lips pressed lightly against your neck as he watched his fingers slide in and out of your tight cunt. His eyes caught yours in the reflection, the green completely swallowed by dark pools of lust.

“Look at you, all spread out for me. You’re fucking exquisite. The little moans you make are enough to drive me mad.”

“Regulus, please,” you keened. He smirked against your neck and picked up the pace. Your head fell against his shoulder as that familiar tense built. “Oh gods. Oh fuck. Reggie—“

You felt him grip your chin, tilting it towards the mirror. “Don’t close your eyes,” Regulus growled into your ear. “Watch, kitten. Watch as I make you cum.”

When you dragged your gaze upwards, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. You were in a state of disarray, cheeks flushed, hair matted, and lips parted as Regulus pushed you over the edge. His fingers were magic and every stroke unraveled you, hips bucking, back arching, begging for more and more and more. The orgasm rippled through you like a monsoon, completely swallowing you whole.

“That’s it, princess,” Regulus cooed. “Gods, you’re so fucking pretty when you cum. Darling, you look divine. Je suis raide dingue de toi.”

The comedown had you seeing stars. Behind your eyes was a whole galaxy, a cluster of constellations that you never would’ve reached without him. Regulus had made you cum so hard that your body felt like it was floating through outer space.

When you finally regained awareness, you were surprised to find Regulus gently brushing your hair back. “How was that, kitten?”

“That was—you were—fuck.”

“Well said, love. Shakespeare himself would envy your silver tongue.”

He slid his fingers out of you slowly and you tried and failed to suppress the little whine that escaped from the back of your throat.

Regulus smirked, feeling the way you clenched around his digits in an attempt to keep him in place. He stared at his hand, mesmerized by the arousal dripping off his fingers. You stirred, having every intention to find something that he could clean himself off with.

“Let me grab you a towel.”

He gripped your hips in place and looked you straight in the eyes as he brought his fingers to his lips. “No need, princess.”

Then he sucked, hard. The filthy image was enough to leave you gasping in shock. He lapped up every drop like you were the sweetest delicacy on this earth. Regulus groaned, his eyes rolling back as he savored the taste. The moan that rippled through him would forever be branded into your mind.

For Godric’s fucking sake, the man was downright obscene.

“That should hold you off for the rest of the day,” Regulus said. “You’ll still feel the effects of your heat, but it won’t be as bad. You might even be able to drag yourself down to dinner. If you can manage to walk on such shaky legs.”

You rolled your eyes, but softened a bit. If it weren’t for him, you would still be in excruciating pain. “Would it be strange to say thank you?”

Regulus shrugged nonchalantly as though you were merely discussing the weather. “Not strange at all. You’re very welcome, princess.”

“You’re…” you took a deep breath, like your body was rejecting whatever compliment was forming in your mind. “You’re really good at that.”

“Yeah? You think so?”

You quirked a brow. “Fishing for compliments, are we?”

“The only compliment I need is the sound of you moaning my name,” he said with a smile as he hooked your bra back in place and pulled your shirt back down. “I assure you that I intend to hear plenty of that in the near future. This is just the start.”

Regulus straightened, trailing his fingers along the sheets before snatching up the red lace underwear you’d thrown at him earlier. He pocketed the lingerie and smirked.

"You said something earlier," you recalled. "Before I..."

"Before I made you come so hard you saw stars?"

Heat flooded your cheeks at his vulgar choice of words. "Yes. Something in French. That's your native tongue, isn't it?"

"Thinking a lot about my tongue, are you love?"

You ignored the salacious comment. "What did you say?"

A devious smirk tugged at his lips. Regulus pierced you with his gaze, those emerald eyes burning with so much lust that you felt choked with desire.

"It's a secret," he whispered, his voice a deep and rough caress. "If you're good, then maybe you'll find out what my tongue and I have to say."

You rolled your eyes. "You're a pain in the arse, Regulus."

"Find me when you want to play again, princess," Regulus said with a dark chuckle. "I'll be waiting for those claws to come out. See you soon, mon chaton.”

#i am climbing up the walls just look at him my god #regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black fic #regulus black smut #the marauders #marauders era

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notsosweetchan · 4 months

Text

˚ʚ♡ɞ Perfect ˚ʚ♡ɞ

Warning: Twitter prn link-Smut

Paring: | Chan x Reader |

Imagine : Chan’s hands grip your hips tightly as he slams into you forcefully, eliciting muffled moans from deep within your throat. The bed creaks under them, and the room is filled with slapping skin and grunts. You arch your back, pushing yourself against him, craving more of his hard length inside you.

Your drool drips onto the floor as he takes you roughly, “drooling so much baby ? You love this don’t you?” he taunts. You nod your head in response, unable to speak due to the intensity of the pleasure taking control of your body.

His breathing is heavy in your ear, "Fuck... so tight... god damn it feels good..."As he thrusts faster and harder, you can feel his tip brushing against your sensitive spot, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You clutch at the sheets, your nails digging into the soft material as you try to hold on to something solid amidst the tumultuous waves of pleasure that wash over you.

He smells like sweat and sex, making it difficult for you to think straight. The sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates in the small room, along with the wet squelching noises as our bodies move together.

Chan smells like sweat and sex, making it difficult for you to think straight. The sound of skin slapping against skin reverberates in the small room, along with the wet squelching noises as our bodies move together.

Your perfect body shudders beneath his as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. His hips smack against your ass cheeks with each powerful thrust, leaving red marks on your skin from the force behind them.

The room is filled with their heavy breathing, the sound of flesh hitting flesh, and the wet slapping noises as their sweat-slicked bodies move together. In this primal moment, all you can do is focus on the feeling of being completely owned by him.

It's intoxicating and addicting. You throw your head back in ecstasy when he finds your spot once more with a rough thrust that makes you see stars.

His fingers dig into your hips as he loses control, his pace becoming frantic, "I'm gonna cum... I'm gonna fill you up... god damn." His words are slurred together but you can still hear the satisfaction in his voice.

Your moans get louder and you feel yourself getting closer to climax. You can't control your pleasure, your head is thrown back as he finally reaches for one of your nipples and gives it a pinch, sending waves of pleasure straight to your core.

With a primal cry, you come undone beneath him - your walls clenching tightly around his cock, milking every last drop of his release from within you.

He follows soon after, growling out incoherently as his hips buck violently against yours, filling you up with his seed."Fuck... yes... " He pants heavily into your ear, body shaking with satisfaction as he collapses on top of you both. Chan kiss your shoulder blade, “You’re so fucking perfect for me baby.”

#stray kids imagines #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids imagine #stray kids smut #skz imagines #skz x reader #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagines #bang Chan imagine #chan x reader #chan imagines #Chan imagine #skz imagine #skz bang chan #skz smut

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harryslittlefreakk · 2 months

Text

obsessed

summary: harry is your roommate, best friend … and crush 💃 he’s finally broken up with his girlfriend and you’re struggling to hide how you feel about him. loosely based on the song!!

warnings: none! fluffy fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst, mentions nudity

wordcount: 2.7k

a/n: i am a loud & proud olivia rodrigo stan sooo naturally i had to write something. it’s silly and cheesy and short! but i hope you enjoy!!

you can find my masterlist here and join my taglist here!! happy reading my loves 💖

“Guess who I saw today?”

“Who?” You didn’t even need to look up from your book to know Harry was about to throw himself down on the end of your bed, his coat and shoes still on. Every time you got home before him he’d bound into your room like a little labrador, too excited to see you to even drop his stuff down first.

“No, you have to guess.”

“Could’ve been anyone, H,” you told him, feigning reluctance as you closed your book and looked up at him. The second you heard his key rattling in the door you’d wait for the sound of your door bursting open, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life. But you’d never let him know that, so every day you’d pretend it was an annoyance to have him perched at your feet.

“Think of someone you really don’t like,” he persisted, a toothy grin nestled between his dimpled cheeks.

“Literally could be anyone.”

“Come on! Blonde hair, tall, pretty…”

Of fucking course. His stupid, evil, awful ex girlfriend. And naturally, the only way you could react to hearing about her was to reach over and shove him before crossing your arms over your chest. “Ow! What was that for?” Harry laughed, rubbing at his upper arm.

“I was having such a nice day. And then you have to come in and mention that.” It was massively childish, but you couldn’t help but feel violent every time you heard about her. She was fine for the most part, maybe a little too conceited for your taste, but she’d made Harry happy. But you’d watched from the outside as Harry went through relationships, and he always morphed into whatever version of himself he thought the girl would prefer. He stopped being your Harry, and your friendship would suffer for it. But you couldn’t say anything, could never treat his girlfriends with anything but a polite smile and quick conversation, unless you wanted to out yourself as a jealous little girl. And you definitely didn’t want to do that.

This time, however, the ability to hate her had been handed to you on a silver platter when she decided to go home with one of Harry’s friends on a night out. You were his shoulder to cry on, the one to make him smile again after days of moping around. So you had full permission to hate her, and you were relishing in it - as much as you could while still tiptoeing around Harry’s aching heart.

“She wants to meet for a coffee this week,” he told you, scrunching his eyes tight as he waited for another shove. When nothing came, he squinted over to see you rubbing at your temples. “Are you gonna?” you asked, brows furrowed as you imagined the two of them back together.

“Am I allowed?” Harry teased, turning round to lay on top of you, his face only inches from yours. “You’re a grown man, H. Couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to,” you told him, your voice void of any emotion.

“Dunno if it’s a good idea. She might find me too irresistible and then I’ll have to deal with that,” he grinned, not noticing the change in your face. You looked down as you felt your lip start to quiver, too proud to show how your heart sank. “I need to shower, H. Dinner after?” you asked, slipping out from under him and dragging your heavy limbs towards the door. He looked over at you with round, questioning eyes, only to be met by silence and a weak smile as you headed for the bathroom.

You barely got the door shut behind you before the tears came, hot and heavy drops rolling down your cheeks. You knew you couldn’t have Harry, but every minute spent with him had your heart breaking over and over again. Every little cuddle, every touch, lit you up with a fire that burned to the bones. But then you’d see the way he acts with a girlfriend, the way he loved someone, and all those moments you shared seemed silly and infantile. He was your best friend, nothing more and nothing less.

You sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as the sobs wracked your body. You’d tried so hard to push away the feelings, to convince yourself that you were just confused and overwhelmed. He’s a friend, he’s a friend, he’s a friend, echoing around your mind. But deep down, you knew that no one could ever compare to Harry. He was yours, the only one to ever steal a piece of your heart.

“Y/n? M’coming in.” You froze as Harry’s voice came from the other side of the door, clamping a hand over your mouth to hold the sobs in. “I’m naked,” you called out, scrambling to your feet and wiping away your tears with your sleeve. But he opened the door anyway, stopping in the doorway when he saw your tear-stained face. “Didn’t even turn the shower on yet,” he muttered, glancing over at it.

“Why’re you crying?”

“M’not,” you whispered, choking out a giant sob as you turned your face away from Harry, sinking down onto the edge of the bath.

“Quite clearly are. Move,” he ordered, swatting you away before reaching to turn on the taps.

“What are you-”

“If you’re sad, I’m sad. And I like having a bath when I’m sad,” Harry shrugged, turning around to grab one of your bath bombs.

“I was gonna shower, you can’t-”, between the sobs, your confusion and the need for Harry not to know why you were crying, you could barely string a sentence together.

And when Harry pulled off his t-shirt, you were even more lost for words, left with your mouth gaping and only air coming out. “Joining me?” he asked, tipping too much bubble bath into the steamy water - something you’d have to scold him for later.

“I’m not getting in with you,” you told him, once you’d finally got a grip on your brain.

“Just get under the bubbles. And you can close your eyes when I get in.”

“No way.” You hugged your arms over your chest, drawing your swollen bottom lip into your mouth as you watched a shirtless Harry mix the bubble bath into the water. The way his muscles flexed, the tattoos littered across his tanned, slender frame. His skin always looked perfect, not Barbie doll smooth but irresistibly soft. Your fingers took on a mind of their own, slowly reaching out to touch him before he turned around with a smug grin. “Fine, go away then while I have my nice relaxing bath.”

“I want a bath,” you whispered, barely audible over the running water splashing into the tub. “What was that, angel?” Harry grinned, moving his towel onto the toilet seat. “I want a bath,” you told him, louder now, a tiny smile dancing on your lips.

Harry grabbed a hold of one of your hands, tugging you closer to the bathtub. He turned you around before pulling your t-shirt over your head, leaving you in just your little pyjama shorts. Just the brush of his fingertips against your bare torso sent chills down your spine. “M’not looking. Tell me when you’re in,” Harry told you, dropping your t-shirt to his feet.

You pushed your pyjama shorts and panties down your legs, checking behind you to see if Harry really wasn’t watching. True to his word, he had his eyes scrunched tight and his hand clenched over them. You’d seen each other in bathing suits and underwear so many times before, but being naked in the same room as Harry felt beyond weird. You’d never been overly shy about your body, especially with someone who made you feel as pretty and as comfortable as Harry did, but this would add a whole new layer to your friendship - and you didn’t know if you’d survive it. Still, you sunk into the bathtub and pulled the mass of bubbles to your end, trying to keep your breasts under the water before you told Harry he can look. “It’s really hard to make bubbles stay put, H,” you told him, screwing up your face as you tried to hold them steady.

He was laughing as he pulled his trousers and socks off, great big guffaws tumbling out every time the bubbles tried to escape your grip. “Want me to turn the lights down a bit? Then it’s harder to see,” he shrugged, nodding towards the light switch. You nodded, grateful that he cared enough to make sure you were 100% comfortable. It was one of the things that first drew you to Harry, and definitely what you valued most about him. He was always so kind, always caring, so willing to put anyone’s needs above his own - and that’s why relationships always changed him.

“Close your eyes then,” he said, mockingly holding two hands in front of his bulge. You rolled your eyes, finally starting to lighten up as the hot water washed over you. When Harry reached out to swat at your nose, you closed your eyes tight. You felt him stepping into the bathtub after a minute, his long legs slotting down your left-hand side.

“Hi,” he smiled when you opened your eyes. “Gonna tell me what upset you now?”

“It’s really not a big deal,” you told him, your voice small.

“It is if it made you that upset,” Harry countered, placing a gentle hand on your calf, his thumb rubbing against the soft skin.

You paused for a moment, trying to think of what you wanted to say and how to say it. “It just- she doesn’t deserve you, H. Anyone who hurts you like that doesn’t deserve any of your time and respect.” Your eyes dropped to the water as you spoke, your body frozen. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but as soon as he did, you needed to say more. “You were really sad, Harry. It sucked for you and it sucked for me too because I don’t like seeing you like that. I’ll always be there for you, you know that, but I can’t just sit and wait for her to hurt you like that again. Not when you know she’s capable of it.”

You watched the smaller bubbles popping one by one by one, suddenly anxious in the silence that followed your speech. You hated going against Harry, putting your two cents into something that really didn’t concern you, but sometimes he needed to hear it.

“I know,” he replied finally. “But do you think that because you don’t like her?”

“Harry, no! I don’t like her because she did that to you.”

“You were never her biggest fan,” he shrugged, his brows knitted when you finally pulled your eyes up to meet his.

“She changed you, H. You were different with her, less you. Everything is so surface level with her, it’s looks and Instagram likes and who’s got trouble with who. There’s no substance, nothing deeper.”

Harry’s thumb halted as he shook his head, his jaw clenching slightly. “It doesn’t always have to be deeper,” he sighed, rubbing at his chin with his free hand.

“I know it’s not my place but you need someone who brings out the best in you, you need-”

A bitter laugh from Harry stopped you in your tracks, your mouth snapping closed as a chuckle slipped out of his. He met your questioning gaze with a tiny smirk. “She always used to say you were jealous of her.”

You could feel the tears collect on your bottom eyelashes again as he said it, the words stinging like barbed wire sinking into your skin. How could you even respond? “Harry-” was all you could manage before your mouth ran dry.

“I don’t wanna fight with you, y/n,” he told you, his voice soft as he reached out for your hand. “Come here,” he whispered, tugging at your fingertips. “I’m- we-” you started, gesturing between your bare bodies with your free hand, eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Doesn’t matter,” Harry said, motioning for you to turn around.

Somewhat reluctantly, you did, leaning back into his body until your back hit your chest. You were exposed in every sense, your chest sitting just above the waterline and your heart on your sleeve. Harry wrapped an arm around your torso, his delicate touch careful not to go anywhere it shouldn’t.

“Truth is I probably need someone like you. Only one to make me happy on a shitty day, only one who gives me any effort,” he murmured, his voice so low that if he wasn’t speaking directly into your ear, you wouldn’t have heard him. Your heart quickened as he spoke, your pulse pounding against your inner wrists. “I’m not- I don’t have anything that she-” you choked out.

“S’a good thing, no?” Harry asked, turning his head just slightly until his lips brushed tentatively against your earlobe. “No, Harry. You need more, you need-”

“You,” he finished for you. “Just say the word and I’m yours, angel.”

It was like someone had handed you everything you ever wanted on a silver platter, all you had to do was reach out and take it. But it wasn’t that easy. If anything went south, you risked losing Harry forever. You shuffled back out of his grip, turning to sit in front of him, perched on your knees. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about him seeing your body, your words willing themselves from your lips. “If anything went wrong Harry, I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, blinking to keep the tears at bay.

“What would go wrong? We know we get along, we have the same traits and the same values. We’re already doing life together,” he reached out a hand to cup your cheek as he spoke, his eyes laced with nothing but earnestness.

“I don’t want to be your consolation prize.”

“Never. Never ever, I swear. I thought about it for a while but it never really clicked until now.”

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Harry spoke, desperately needing to figure out if it was all a dream. The sensation of his touch, the sound of his voice, the gentle heat of the water – it all felt too real to be a dream. But a part of you couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was too perfect, too surreal to be true. You hesitated, unsure if you should dare to believe in the fairytale unfolding between the two of you.

As if he could see the cogs turning in your head, Harry dropped his hand from your cheek, entwining your fingers in yours instead. He squeezed lightly, the corners of his lips turning up into a little smile. "I'm here, y/n," he whispered. "This is real, promise." His words were a lifeline in the sea of doubt that threatened to consume you. Even if it was a dream, it was a dream you never wanted to wake up from.

“It’s all I ever wanted,” you confessed, allowing yourself to give into the fantasy for at least a little while. You fought the urge to search for the hidden cameras, check the date to make sure it wasn’t an April Fools prank. Harry was a goof, but you were a thousand percent sure he wouldn’t play with your feelings like that.

“Just say the word,” he repeated, his husky voice laced with sincerity and longing.

“I want this,” you whispered, clutching onto Harry’s hand as if you could fall off the Earth at any minute. His face erupted into a grin so cheesy that you couldn’t help but mirror it, eyes locked onto his as he closed the distance between the two of you.

Harry’s lips met yours softly, as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you melted into him, the air nearly knocked out of your lungs by the urgency and desire behind his soft movements. He pulled away after a minute, his forehead pressed to yours as he searched your eyes for any sign that you wanted to stop. Although all Harry was met with was a sparkle in your gaze, and a further few pecks landing on his lips. “Should’ve done this a long time ago,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands splaying across your back. “Should’ve done it before you got me naked,” you teased, succumbing once again to his kiss.

rrrr i really don’t know how i feel about this but i wanted to get something out

taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7

#harry styles fluff #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harryslittlefreakk

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ellecdc · 3 months

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Mother, im sitting here at 4am, eating mini easter eggs and ive had tge most brilliant idea!! (Inspired by @inkdrinkerworld 's fic)

Okay so, poly!moonwater and readers been having trouble sleeping due to tensions/problems with her pureblood family. As a result shes been taking more naps, but they arent restful. So reader were napping in Rems bed (the dungeons were too cold) but after a fitful 30 minutes she gets up groggy, sleep deprived and beyond frustrated. She stumbles her way down to the common room, pin point Sirius lounging across the couch and promptly throws herself down to cuddle with him and continue her nap. Everyone (minus Siri) is shook. Jamie even asks if she got the wrong person because Reggie was sitting over there (in which he got a one eyed death glare before she burrowed into Siris chest and passed out).

Now, what everybody else didnt know was that Siri had more or less adopted reader as his own (she remined him so much of Reggie, being her big brother was 2nd nature). And while Barty was her person, he was a little too crazy to be comforting in this situation ("y/n, i'll get rid of them for you. Its not hard to do so" "Barty, no."). And of course Siri nows how bad their kind of familys are so he'd been taking care of reader on the down low as an older brother would.

Bonus if Reggie then decides that looks warm and fuzzy and wants Siri cuddles too so he joins ( it took him so long to get to a point where he could let himself be vunerable enough to openly allow Siri to take care of him 😭)

aweeee poor reader. this ended up being way more serious than I thought it would be? like it's not funny at all, there's no humour (which feels odd to me, usually I can throw some jokes or banter in there) but plenty of hurt comfort???.......idk, I can't tell if this is any good, it feels very different from my usual pieces

poly!moonwater x fem!reader whose family sucks (but it's very Sirius-centric)

CW: mentions of insomnia, mentions of abusive families, making fun of only children (sorry), hurt/comfort

You were miserable to say the least; you couldn’t remember when the last time you had a restful sleep was, and nothing you did seemed to help.

The closer it got to the Winter Holidays, the more your mind seemed to spiral. Every time you began to relax, your heart pounded as if you’d accidentally leaned too far back in your chair, reminding you of your upcoming visit home. Every time you closed your eyes, you were bombarded with images of angry faces and violent curses being shot at you.

The Slytherin dungeons were too cold, and every time you found your way into Regulus’ dorm, Barty insisted on butting in, and though you appreciated his support, you couldn’t handle his threats promises to burn down your home with your parents in it.

Remus and Regulus both suggested you perhaps talk to Madame Pomfrey about getting some dreamless sleep or sleeping draught, but you were too embarrassed to admit to your two overprotective boyfriends that you’ve used them so frequently during your life for this very reason that they had lost all efficacy.

It had gotten to the point that you managed to get the most sleep in the library bent over the table with your face on your book whilst Remus and Regulus did their work (and sometimes yours), and that honestly left you feeling more painfully tired than you had been before your nap.

So, you were nearly falling asleep at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall over your chicken and roast potatoes when Remus gently nudged you and suggested you go lie down for a bit and you wanted to weep into your potatoes which was only slightly less embarrassing than sleeping in them, causing him and Regulus to bring you up to Gryffindor tower.

You’d kicked them both out of the Marauders’ dorm room after some time – Remus for snoring and Regulus because the sound of him turning the pages of his book was distracting you. He promised to stop reading, but then he breathed too loudly and you started crying.

You were overtired, emotional, and running on fumes.

You’d counted puffskeins, you’d had a warm glass of milk, you’d taken off articles of clothing and reconfigured your outfit numerous times (which was currently Remus’ jumper and no pants), and you’d tried every position imaginable to no avail.

You think you might have perhaps gotten five minutes of sleep before you woke up with a start, a barely repressed scream grating through your teeth.

Feeling disturbingly weepy and no less groggy from your horrid sleep, you pulled on a pair of your sweatpants and grabbed the throw blanket from the end Remus’ bed before trudging down the stairs to the common room.

“You should have seen the look on Filch’s face- oh! Hi Y/N!” James called as you made your way over to the three-seater and stood over the black-haired boy currently occupying it.

“Oh, Trouble.” He cooed sympathetically at you before kicking his feet out, laying back, and opening his arms for you to join him. You quickly climbed on top of him, and he tucked you in between the back of the sofa and his side, bending your knee so that your thigh rested on top of his, and pulled the blanket over the two of you.

You let out a shaky sigh and felt the first few tears fall from your eyes and onto Sirius’ chest.

“Uhm...” James said loudly, looking over to both Regulus and Remus cuddled in a large plush chair from his place on the loveseat with Lily like ‘are you seeing this right now?’. “I think you’ve got the wrong wizard there, L/N.” He said with a nervous laugh.

“No, she’s quite alright.” Sirius gritted back at him, looking far more severe than James thought the situation called for as he rubbed his hand consolingly up and down your arm.

James looked to your boyfriends, his face clearly asking all the questions that his mouth wasn’t.

“He helps, sometimes.” Regulus admitted, not looking particularly happy that you chose his brother over him, but not nearly as murderous as James figured he might look if he’d found Lily snuggled up like that with some other bloke. And it appeared as though the look of heartbreak on Remus’ face was caused more by your current sorry state and less about your current cuddle partner.

“But...your brother?” James asked, still befuddled over this development. “Doesn’t she usually go to Junior for things like this?”

Sirius scoffed. “Junior’s solution to almost anything is fire or murder.”

“Or both.” You whimpered quietly, causing Sirius to tighten his arm around you and bring his other hand up to continue stroking your arm.

“Besides, Barty’s an only child.” Regulus said flippantly.

“What’s that got to do with it?” James asked, slightly offended at the insinuation that anything may be wrong with him on account of his only child-ness.

Regulus’ irritable demeanor over Sirius usurping you was quickly replaced by a cocky smirk at getting under James’ skin.

“Let me ask you this, Potter: last summer when Lily returned your letters unopened and called you an arrogant toerag after saying she’d rather date the giant squid, whose arms did you cry into?”

“He didn’t cry.” Lily laughed at the same time as James answered “Sirius’” without any hesitation.

“What?” Lily asked, looking slightly horrified that she may have actually hurt James’ feelings.

“Oh, all the time, every time, actually.” James said readily.

“He got snot on so many of my favourite band-tee’s, Red. As a matter of fact, I expect retribution.” Sirius commented.

“And why do you think you cried into Sirius’ arms?” Regulus continued.

“Well...because he’s my best mate.” James said simply.

“You may think that’s the reason, but you’re wrong. It’s because Sirius is an older brother.”

James scoffed at that. “Please, that has nothing to do with it!”

“Have you ever cried in Remus’ arms?”

“No, but-”

“Pettigrew’s?”

James grimaced but answered honestly. “No.”

“No. Because they’re not older brothers.” Regulus said definitively.

“That actually makes sense...” Lily mused aloud.

“You say that like you’re surprised, Evans. I know you’re not used to good idea’s coming out of men’s mouths, but I do assure you it happens more frequently than you might imagine.” Regulus taunted, earning him a pillow being hurled at his head.

Much to James’ chagrin, his seeker reflexes caught the pillow before it made impact with his face.

“Tosser.” James grumbled.

“Would you guys shut up.” Sirius whispered, causing everyone to look over at you.

Regulus couldn’t even find it in him to be miffed when he saw you sleeping what looked to be quite peacefully in Sirius’ arms. Your eyes were slightly swollen from your tears, and he could see the tracks they had left on your cheeks and over the bridge of your nose, but you looked so content.

“So... all big brothers know how to do that?” James asked incredulously.

“I doubt it.” Sirius commented quietly.

“Only ones who know what it’s like to live in a Pureblood hellscape and needed to share his bed with his younger brother who was too scared to sleep on his own for years.” Regulus added quietly, staring unseeingly towards you and Sirius. Remus pulled Regulus tighter into his side and began rubbing his arm consolingly.

Suddenly, things started to make a little more sense to James.

“I’ll write to mum.” James stated, causing both brothers, Lily, and Remus to look at him bemusedly.

“About what?” Remus asked finally.

“Y/N staying with us.” James said simply.

Regulus opened his mouth ready to argue; to argue that James didn’t have to and that he already took in both Sirius and Regulus. James didn’t owe Regulus anything.

But Sirius spoke first.

“She should be with her big brother, Reggie.” Sirius said, shooting him an encouraging smile and wink.

And seeing how your breathing had fallen even with your mouth slightly ajar as you clutched to the fabric of Sirius’ jumper like it was a lifeline, who was Regulus to argue?

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poppy-metal · 6 days

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patrick doing something that really pissed off art, like really pisses him off, and instead of apologising he just give you to him, patrick’s pretty girlfriend. patrick watched as art blows you from behind, grunting and groaning like an animal. patrick gave you a talk before, and just like you were told, all you whimper is “sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry art,” over and over with every brutal thrust and every squelch of your wet pussy. arts rough, and he’s mean but he’s still art. pulls your hair back yes, but presses slobbery kisses to your neck. barks commands at you, like “shut up” or “stop moving”, yes, but then can’t help himself praising you, “so pretty” “so tight” “so warm”. and patrick watches everything with a smug smile on his face. god i just need art to just be so mean to me and make me cry and make it better and make me beg and beg for me and i can’t take this anymore

mean art save me save me mean art..... i imagine in this situation art doesn't actually know you that well. you're almost an extension of patrick in a way, patricks girl, patricks plaything. its the most disrespectful he's ever been - given that he has the permission to be. he can't find it in himself to throw his anger out at patrick how he wants, he can't punch him, pound his face into the ground until his knuckles are bloody because thats not art. hes not a violent person. hes not. but all that anger and resentment has to go somewhere, its like a poison, the way it eats at him. and patrick knows, knows if he doesn't offer something - concede something his relationship with art will crumble. and he cant have that. its fucked in a way, the way its not even something he has to think about for long at all - they get into an argument and art has turned on his heel, already cold, already icing patrick out and patrick is quick to grab his wrist, tug him back. "hold on - "

it should be horrible the way your boyfriend offers you up on a silver platter like you're a piece of meat. it should anger and humiliate you to be used as a bargaining chip between them to maintain peace, your body like a vessel that will exorcize their demons towards one another. patrick cant just say sorry, he cant say those words, he cant be vulnerable like that, open himself up to art for the fear of art breaking his heart.

and everyone thinks art is a lovely guy. and he is. most of the time, to most people. especially to women. his grandma raised him. he grew up catholic. you always treat a lady with respect.

unless that lady is patrick zweigs girlfriend.

he shouldn't accept but he does. the promise is too appealing. staking claim over a tree patrick has pissed all over. putting his mark there. so when patrick offers you up, art only pretends to be disturbed when he storms off. its the principle of the thing, he has to act affronted for his own moral compass. he texts patrick later. "fine."

for all you should be up in arms and upset you're not. that's your own fucked up dilemma. loving being the center of attention between two opposing forces. loving the idea of patrick giving you over and expecting you to put your pussy to work to his satisfaction - endure his closest confidants aggression to show how good you are. to show how much you can take - patrick likes you dirty he likes you bad he likes you arching your back and moaning for his best friend to fuck you harder while he watches, because he fucking asked you to.

patrick cant say sorry - but you can. with the tight glove of your wet cunt - with the warbled whines punched out of your throat with every thrust inside your body - "hes sorry, so sorry, sorry, sorry art - oh god - take him back, please, oh-" and you feel the way art winds a fist in your hair, yanks your body till its bending back to meet his hard chest as he pounds and pounds and pounds.

"not there yet," he grunts, and he shoves you back down, you press your tits to the mattress, make eye contact with patrick as you spread your thighs wider and accept every plunge - "tell your girlfriend if she wants me to forgive you she needs to squeeze my dick harder."

patrick licks his lips, eyes dark. you know hes turned on by this. you want to taste the evidence of it in your mouth, filling your throat but this isn't about patrick getting off. its about art. so he tells you, "hug his cock with your pussy, baby, you know how. just how i taught you."

your eyes roll back as you obey, obey, obey. bearing down on the cock thrusting in and out and gripping at it with your muscles as tight as you can - art groans long and hard behind you, nails digging into the fat of your waist. rolls his hips into yours, "fuck, that's good. good fucking girl - keep doing that -"

he hunches behind you, lips brushing the shell of your ear, "you need to respect yourself more," he pants, biting your lobe and pulling it between his teeth, "but not until i cum."

#ask #frens <3 #fixing their friendship for them w your pussy <33333 #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig smut

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bakugoushotwife · 8 months

Text

kinktober day eleven: monsterfucking kink

>>> guys this one may be my fav day ngl...as you can tell by my blog's entire theme that this is my biggest and most violent fantasy i need dragon king bakugou in the worst way please oh my god please

>>> EDIT 10/11: MHA LEAKS OMFG THIS DROPPED THE DAY MHA LEAKS BAKUGOU IS BACK MY GLORIOUS KING!!!!

>>> starring: dragon king!bakugou x curvy!fem!reader >>> cw: monsterfucking, bakugou is a hybrid, no prep, creampie, breeding, biting, blood, dark content, kinda forced marriage? mating bonds, uh, i think that's it. >>>wc: 2.9k >>> event masterlist

it was the new king’s coronation day, and as tradition demands, he shall have his pick of the finest women in his lands. you were brought forth amongst a host of other ladies deemed pretty enough for the young king to choose from. you were the only one of them that seemed irritated by the prospect, all the other girls were tittering and combing their hair while discussing their chances of being picked to be the dragon king’s new bride. he examined you all in a line, sneering at all the smiling and fluttering lashes—sending them crying from the room. he pauses on you, his gaze was stern and fiery but you didn’t hesitate to square your shoulders and meet it. he’s surprised; you don’t smile or extend your hand for him to kiss. you challenge him, you tell him with that strong set jaw and steel stare that you won’t be easy. he feels a pull on his heart, something he cannot yet explain. he likes you.

you tilt your chin up, almost like you’re the one sizing him up. you’re so regal and amusing to him that his mind is made up instantly, but he gives you a few more minutes of looking him over, hoping to see some semblance of interest on your face. king bakugou was a hulking form of a man, towering above everyone in the room. they always were bigger than the normal humans, but he was larger than any of the dragon shifters you had ever come across. the room almost didn’t seem big enough to contain him, and it was his castle. his burlap trousers balloon around his lower half, but it seems there were not shirts big enough to fit the new king of dragons, only a long fur cloak that fastened with a golden dragon broach stretching across the broad expanse of his chest. he was tanned and scarred from years of flight and battle, and muscled even more so. he had hints of sparkling scarlet scales trailing along his collarbones with pointy teeth that alluded to his other form. his biceps bulged as he folded his arms across his chest, admiring you as you admire him with a satisfied smirk on his face. you didn’t throw yourself at him like the rest, and he doubted you would yet still, but you weren’t shy to let your eyes linger on him. he likes you.

he smirks your way, grunting his approval. you were the perfect match. you certainly were the most beautiful creature of his kingdom, and your womanly figure assured him that he would sire several successful heirs with you. you captivated him and you had not yet spoken a word, though the young king could feel that fierce tugging on his heart again, something he now recognizes to be his mating bond the longer he looks at you and the stronger the feeling grows.

“mine.” he says simply, nodding at you in content. his right hand man and fellow dragon shifter steps closer, handing his friend and king a fur pelt similar to the one he wears before retreating back into the onlooking crowd. the king unclasps the matching golden dragon, swinging the covering over your shoulders and snapping the jewelry back into place with a surprising nimbleness. this was the first of many gifts the king would dole out for his mate and queen, but this is the first one to mark you as his. you’re shocked to be chosen, convinced he would take your surveying for disrespect and brutalize you here to send a message— but alas, the most explosive dragon ruler in all the lands chose you as his bride. “you are my mate. we will marry in two moons. dismissed.”

he looks over your head when he says this, ending the celebrations in favor of alone time with his chosen. his gaze has a hint of boredom to it as it glides around the room, red and fiery with unspoken strength and power behind them. you straighten yourself under the weight of your new cloak, bowing your head out of respect, albeit so quick it made the king exhale heavily through his nose as if to chuckle.

“you are amusing, mate.” he says, extending a warm battle-worn hand to push your hair away from your neck. he lets it rest against your shoulder, smirking at how small you were compared to him. it was overwhelmingly apparent that he could do anything he wanted to with you, and you weren’t necessarily opposed to the concept. you started this day with immense rage and dread at having to go before the king and be selected like a prize horse. but he surprised you, even being every bit as brute and brash as everyone said he’d be, his eyes sparkled when they came across you. he declared you his mate—-a huge deal for a dragon shifter, and shrouded you in the engagement cloak without so much as a second thought. there was no arguing with the king, nor his mating bond. your soul was created to nurture his, and vice versa. he felt this snap into place instantly, as a mortal, you probably wouldn’t feel the strength of your connection for several days to weeks. it was an honor, one you couldn’t believe was bestowed upon you—but you certainly weren’t complaining anymore. “i like you.”

you feel your body warm a bit from something as simple as his touch. he’s rough around the edges, and certainly doesn’t know how to be gentle or verbose, but his statement makes you smile warmly anyway. “thank you, my king. i’m quite amused as well.”

he lets his hand slide from your shoulder all the way to your hand, clutching it tight as he brings it to his lips, giving it a chaste kiss. your scent makes his heart skip a beat, and he wonders if he can make it through the next two months without ravaging his sweet maiden.

the days pass, slowly, but they pass. your king brings you several gifts and trinkets, filling your new chambers with tokens of his affection and fondness for his mate. the dragons were known for this, and your mate was the brightest and biggest of them all. so never did he go out to fly without returning with a clutch of presents. he was always so proud of himself as he showed them to you, shoving all the perfumes and jewels in your hands with a boastful grin.

“i found these for you. wear them.” he grunts, roughly pulling you into his arms for a crushing hug. he was working on it, but he manhandled you on accident a majority of the time, not used to interacting with women. you were getting used to it anyhow, only giggling and nodding your acceptance, cooing at how beautiful all the gifts were. he preens in your praise, eager to earn the deep affection that the bond produces.

you couldn’t deny that the bond was starting to affect you, as if you needed any help falling for the monster of a man meant to be your husband. he was kind and loving to you, and you couldn’t ask for much more. he was feared and revered, if you were dumb enough to cross him or his kingdom—soon to be your kingdom, then you earned the punishment of his hellfire tenfold. you wouldn’t find yourself begging for lives to be spared as you stand in the crowd while watching the king dole out sentences. he was brutal, and scary, vicious and primal in every way. his servants tremored in his wake, and though his people loved his protection, they feared his wrath. you were truly the only exception, and it was mystical for everyone to see the fierceness that abounds for his soon to be wife, his forever mate, his queen. and they could only hope your loving tenderness would tame the wild king.

he took meals with you, showed you around his dreary and plain castle, easily agreeing to your every decoration suggestion and insisting you do whatever you want—this is your home now too. he even took you on rides in his gorgeous dragon form, letting you see how beautiful the sun setting over the kingdom was, flying you to different nations, journeying close to the seawaters so you could feel the salty wind on your skin. he forced himself to sleep in his own quarters at night, trying and struggling to abide by common decency.

when your wedding day finally arrived, the king was more than ready to make you his queen officially—and then cart you to bed where decency would be the last thing on his mind. the ceremony is gorgeous, the image of you in your wedding gown was never to be forgotten on him, even though he couldn’t wait to rip it off of you. his brain had already geared into the darker side of things by the time you were being shown to your now shared chambers, and he could not resist his mate any longer.

you weren’t faring much better. however this mating bond usually affected mortal women, it had you ready to climb your king like a tree. as soon as the doors were closed, he was on you, shoving you backwards while hastily tearing at your dress. you assist him in getting it over your head with only minimal rips in the fabric. you can’t bring yourself to care as you fall back on the bed with his body covering yours like a blanket. he’s snarling, but he’s not angry, just eager and too impatient to think about all the lessons he’s learned in being gentle. he scoops you up and tosses you up towards headboard, and you swear you can see steam billow off his form as he eyes you down, watching you lay and spread for him.

“it’s been hard…waiting for you.” he complains, unfastening his cloak and letting it fall to the floor. the moment is so intense, you can feel the air thicken, smell the need permeating the air. he’s breathing heavily already, tugging at the weaving strings keeping his pants closed. your breath hitches when you see his scales glisten in the moonlight, the outline of his cock pressing against the troublesome burlap material. you pant out and nod, knowing the growth before you was only the first hint of what he had to pleasure his mate with. dragon shifters are larger than mortal men in every way, reflecting their dragon status in several different physical markers along their bodies, scales along their collarbones and spines, long mane-esque hairstyles, and of course their cocks. he steps out of the clothing, his massive leaking dick slapping up against his abs with a loud smack, you moan.

his ashy patch of hair and the scarlet scales glistening against his hip bones direct your attention to the monster cock you married. he’s long, thick, curved, lined with veins and a throbbing pink tip leaking his pre-cum in droplets on the bed. it was easily half the size of his thigh, both length and width wise. he fixes himself on the bed, shredding your panties with sharp talons and eyeing your tiny hole. he has all the intentions to stretch you a bit, to get you soaked to accommodate him but when he looks back up at you, you’re drooling.

you can’t imagine how good that’s going to feel inside you. all the times you had touched yourself out of curiosity or even genuine horniness would hardly compare to this, to the man it’s attached to—the way he watches you like a predator tells you there was nothing in this world that would prepare you for what he was about to do to you–what you wanted him to do to you. “i know…” you say after taking a deep breath, reaching for his face. “i’ve had to wait just as long.”

you squirm in place, lidded eyes flickering from his endowment to his eyes and then back again. “just wanna feel my king…i know you’ll fill me up so well.” you coo, batting your lashes.

he’s not in the right mind to banter with you, the only thoughts crossing his brain at the sight and scent of you was to ravage. he grips your hips tightly, trying to will himself to be stronger and give his new bride the treatment she deserves. he should prepare you like a gentleman, but unfortunately the young king is unable to will himself to be gentle. you seem to read his mind, nodding and spreading your legs a bit further, allowing him to get settled in the space you provide. he wastes no time in lining up with your entrance and bottoming out. he knows it’s sadistic that he enjoys the way your eyes cross at the sensation, the burning and splitting stretch ripping a sob from your throat. you clutch at his arms, the natural slick you produced just from your own anticipation aiding him in the glide. he stays still for a moment, letting you adjust to him so he can also adjust to the feeling of your virgin pussy gripping him like a hand-tailored glove. he can’t fight the groan that leaves his lips, mindfully keeping his talons retracted as he rakes his hands over your plush stomach and wide hips, stopping to paw at your thick thighs and fat ass. he’s already rendered speechless, only able to grunt and groan as he starts to move, putting your legs up to his shoulders as to not face any resistance. you cry out at the new angle, absolutely feeling the searing heat of him splitting you apart, but you love it. you move your hips against his, head digging back against the pillow at the newfound pleasure.

it’s so hard for him to go slow, especially as you fuck yourself into him and cry out for more. your body takes him so well, as it was designed to, but he still didn’t expect it to feel and look and sound so good. he can see himself in your stomach, the spikes along his base curling into you and hitting every spot so well. you didn’t even know it was possible to feel this good, his cockhead drilling into your womb so hard it has the corners of your vision turning white.

he’s growling, unable to repress his animalistic side completely. he leans forward, snapping his hips to yours as your wanton moans fill the room. he lets his tongue lave over your neck, making you gasp out at the feeling. “mate–i need to mark–bite..” he rumbles in your ear, goosebumps rippling over his body when you whine out and nod.

“please! bite me, got those teeth f’r a reason—” you plead, your small hand guiding his face to the crook of your neck. your eagerness makes his cock twitch, your enjoyment paramount to him just as much as claiming his mate for the first time. he abides by your wishes, sinking his teeth into your flesh and clamping down, feeling you do the same around his dick. you moan out, clawing at his back with your own kind of talons. he can’t stop, driving bruises and bloody spots all along your neck and chest. he’d never go too deep even in his lusty haze, his primal instinct to protect his other half would never allow him to cause permanent harm. he admires his work, “pretty mate, my teeth marks.”

he grunts out, gripping your hips and roughly turning you over, grabbing a fistful of your hair to yank you into a deep arch. you scream at the new angle, some blood trickling down your neck and pooling between your breasts. he’s entranced by the shape of your body beneath him, how his hands take up your entire waist and the way your ass ripples as he hammers into you. you’re struggling to hold your body up under the force of his thrusts, gripping the covers beneath you for dear life. he reaches around your hip, locating the sweet bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. your hips falter when he presses his touch to your clit, a little sob coming from your lips as you begin to fall apart.

“pretty. coat my cock.” he grunts, cock jumping again as you nod and fall forward, your pussy spasming around him like crazy. he feels the rush of you, sending him shuddering towards his end too. “g’nna take my heirs.” he groans, slamming your hips back into his as he spills into you for the first time.

he pulls out quickly to gather you up in his arms, laying on his back with you protected by the expanse of his chest. you’re incoherent as his seed trickles out of you, and as bewitching as the sight is, he wants you to give him several warrior princes and princesses. so he slides his hands between your legs and chuckles as you jerk when you feel his fingers stuffing his cum back inside. you whine, so sensitive but yearning for all of his touches. he grunts a bit, leaning over to smooth your tousled hair and gently kissing the bruises and shallow wounds he gave you. his kindness touches you, and you relax into his body with a grin, knowing he would hold you to his heart’s content and then have the servants run a bath for the new dragon queen.

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