#and the next weird monsters are after you
Note
AYW request where Reader graduates from college so Ryan, Luke, and Eddie come to her graduation. And then Eddie gives her a little graduation gift of his own...
+ Eddie eating Reader out under her gown right after her graduation ceremony. Like, the moment she walks across the stage, he’s dragging her to the bathroom and diving in.
I am dedicating this to Dr. Bug! I'm so proud of you @munson-blurbs 💚
Warnings: smut, p in v, unprotected (wrap it up), oral f receiving, age gap
Words: 5k
[As You Wish masterlist]
The polyester robe that hangs on your shoulders sways in the breeze as you fetch your cap out of the back seat. The cerulean regalia is a beautiful shade, but it was a pain in the ass to find something to wear beneath it that didn’t clash. The white floral summer dress peeking out now from your unzipped gown was a lucky find that caught your eye while out having lunch with Max one day.
Cap with a golden tassel securely in your hand, you shut the back door to your sister’s car and walk around the backside to stand next to her.
“I can’t wait to meet your boyfriend,” your sister teases, as if you’re twelve and not twenty-two.
You roll your eyes as you lift a hand to shade your face from the blazing sun above. It’s not even officially summer yet but Indiana is coming in hot with those high temperatures this year.
“Don’t be weird,” you say.
An exaggerated gasp leaves your older sister’s lips, and she presses a hand to her heart, fresh yellow nail polish glinting in the sunlight.
“Me? I’m never weird.”
“When I was fourteen you told Connor Donald–”
“But you were going to the bathroom!”
“You don’t tell that to a boy when he calls!” Somehow you feel like that teenage girl all over again.
“I just had this feeling about him,” she says with a shrug. Your sister crosses her arms over her chest. “And I was right.”
“Yeah, he was a creep,” you admit.
The smug smile on her pretty face is annoying enough to have you turning away from her. At the other end of the parking lot, you see a familiar group of men headed your way, and the littlest one breaks away from the herd and races your way, yelling your name. As he gets closer, you spy the hat perched atop his chocolate curls and the cuteness devastates you.
With a gleeful chuckle, you catch Luke as he flings himself into your arms. Using the momentum, you swoop the almost-seven-year-old up and hold him against your hip. Your back and arm muscles protest the effort, but you do your best to ignore them. Truthfully, Luke’s getting heavier and too big for this now, but you can’t bear to stop picking him up—he’s still that baby boy to you.
“Hey, you,” you greet him.
“You look so pretty!” he tells you as you begrudgingly set him down.
“Thank you!” you say. “You look pretty handsome yourself in that snazzy fedora.”
Luke giggles and adjusts the brim of the hat so he can see you better.
By now, the rest of the gang has made their way to you and Ryan is the next one to launch himself towards you for a hug. Wayne goes next and you can tell your boyfriend is purposefully waiting to be the last one. Indeed he was as he brings you into his arms and presses a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. His hands slip below the graduation robe and rest on the soft cotton of the dress that hugs your lower back.
“Hi,” he whispers against your lips.
“Hi,” you reply just as softly.
If it weren’t for your sister clearing her throat, you very well might have forgotten that you were at your graduation, let alone there were other people standing around you right now. Such is the power of Eddie and his touch.
“Oh,” you say, face heating up as you take a step back from your boyfriend. “Right. Um, everyone, this is my big sister, Gin. Gin, this is Eddie, Wayne, and the little monsters Luke and Ryan.”
Both boys make silly faces at you in retaliation for their introduction, which you have no problem doing right back to them.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Eddie says, extending his hand.
“Likewise,” Gin replies as she shakes it.
“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” Wayne greets your sister. They shake hands as Eddie comes closer to you again, standing behind you and resting his hands on your hips.
“Heard that if it weren’t for you, these two wouldn’t even know each other,” Wayne says, nodding to you and Eddie.
Ryan’s nose scrunches up in confusion. “Huh?”
“It’s true,” Gin tells the boy with a smile. “My old roommate is friends with your mom. One day I overheard something about someone needing a babysitter and I knew my little sister was available.”
Luke walks over and wraps his arms around your sister’s hips, giving her a big squeeze.
“Thank you for hearing that!”
The adults chuckle and you lean back into Eddie as he rests his chin on your shoulder.
“I don’t wanna go in,” you say with a sigh.
“Where are you going?” Ryan asks.
“I have to go inside with everyone else who’s graduating,” you explain as Eddie’s arms wind their way around your waist. He isn’t making this any easier. “That way you guys get to watch me when I walk across the stage.”
“Ed, would you let the poor girl go?” Wayne says with a sigh, making Gin let out a tittering laugh.
“Don’t wanna,” he says like a petulant child. He presses a kiss to your shoulder before whispering in your ear. “I like your dress.”
“Thank you,” you hum softly.
Silently, Eddie presses his body flush up against yours and you feel his half-hard cock pressing up against the top of your ass. A strangled gasp leaves your lips and Eddie has to bury his face in your neck to hide his smirk.
“I really like it,” he mumbles against your skin.
Sitting in the small arena, in dark green retractable seats that are usually reserved for someone watching a school basketball or hockey game, Ryan and Luke start to grow restless as they wait for the graduation ceremony to begin. Eddie knows they won’t exactly be captivated once it starts either, but he’ll cross that bridge when he comes to it.
“Luke, can you please sit down? I don’t want to ask you again.”
“When is she coming out?” Luke asks, craning his neck to look around at the stage as he does as his father asked.
“When everybody else does,” Ryan says, also bored, but annoyed by his little brother as well.
“But when’s that?” the six-year-old whines.
“You know,” Gin says with a smile that looks suspiciously like one of Luke’s or Ryan’s when they’re up to something, “I have some pretty funny stories I could tell you about her.”
Eddie is also clearly intrigued by this, a spark of mischief gleaming in his own eyes.
“Ooh, like what?” Luke asks, already engrossed even though your sister hasn’t begun yet.
“Well, one time,” Gin starts, “she thought she could be like Mary Poppins and fly. She grabbed an umbrella and wanted to climb up to the roof. Our dad followed her into the garage and asked what she was looking for. When she said a ladder so she could go up to the roof, he put an end to her plan. She cried the whole day because she wasn’t allowed to try and fly like Mary Poppins could.”
Luke laughs, tilting sideways until he’s leaning against his big brother. Ryan’s chuckling as well, picturing you being mad because you can’t fly.
“Are you the big sister?” Ryan asks.
“I am,” Gin says.
“How many years?” Luke asks. “Ryan’s two years older than me. I’m the baby.”
“I’m six years older than her.”
“I’m six years old!” Luke shares excitedly.
“Do you have any more stories?” Ryan asks.
Eddie and Wayne share a smile between the two of them. Ryan is usually never so open with people he’s just met—he’s always been the shyest in the family. But there’s something about Gin being your sister that has Ryan feeling comfortable enough to be himself. The two of you aren’t identical, though it’s easy to tell that you are sisters. Gin is slightly shorter, and her face holds more roundness than yours does, but there’s a clear resemblance. Especially around the eyes, Eddie notices. They aren’t the exact same shade, but the shape of your eyes and arch of your eyebrows are very much alike.
“Hmm,” Gin hums as she thinks of another story to entertain the boys with. Eddie can’t help but notice she purses her lips when she’s thinking the same way that you do as well.
“Oh, okay. She used to make us watch her sing and dance all the time! Especially to New Kids on the Block.”
“Who?” Ryan asks.
Before the stab of feeling old has time to sink in for Eddie, Gin, or Wayne, the lights dim and a blanket of quiet falls over the crowd.
The faculty takes their places on stage and Pomp and Circumstance begins to play over the loudspeaker. Soon, a rolling wave enters the floor of the arena as all graduates file in towards the rows of chairs laid out for them.
Both Ryan and Luke stand, the younger Munson on his tippy toes as he tries to look as far and wide as he can to spot you in the crowd.
“Where is she?” Luke groans. “Everyone is so blue!”
“Ugh! I can’t find her!” Ryan follows up.
It takes Eddie a few moments to find you as well. Everyone is matching so he can’t go by what you’re wearing beneath your gown, and it’s even hard to see your beautiful hair with the cap restricting his view. But it doesn’t take your boyfriend very long to spot you, as he’d be able to find you anywhere—even if he was blindfolded.
“Look, look,” Eddie says, gesturing for his sons to step closer to him. “She’s right there. Next to Aunt Jess.”
Ryan and Luke do their best to follow the direction that their father is pointing in, but it’s hard–even when the graduates all stop walking once they reach their seats. But as Ryan wrinkles up his brow and really tries to examine his dad’s line of vision, his eyes catch on you.
“I see her!” A grin lights up Ryan’s face and it fills Eddie with a warmth that the outside sun could never hope to aspire to.
After a few more minutes, and once the speeches begin, Luke spies you as well and becomes just as excited as his big brother. Their joy quickly wears off as speaker after speaker comes up to the podium to give some of the most boring speeches Eddie has ever heard in his entire life. He can’t blame his boys for practically falling asleep slumped against one another.
Finally, the names of the graduates begin to get called and the boys muster up their energy reserves to wait for you. There’s a good chunk of graduates who have their moment before a name is called that the boys recognize.
“Jess Arnold.”
The boys excitedly cheer but become even giddier when they see you’re next up.
Nothing could have prepared you for the emotion of walking across the stage to receive your diploma. Hearing your name called over the loudspeaker was cool, being up on the jumbo screen for a moment was pretty surreal, but the sounds coming from one particular section of the audience have you choking up as you accept the rolled up piece of parchment from the Dean.
The claps of two small pairs of hands and cheers from those same boys send goosebumps shooting up and down your arms. Luke hadn’t even shouted that loud in excitement when he saw the real-life Hot Wheels cars. Wayne’s whistle joins the noise, that piercing sound making you chuckle as you try to swallow your emotions. Gin’s voice is unmistakable in her cheering—you heard that yelling every day growing up, you’d know it anywhere. But the sound in the cacophony that makes a few tears spill over your lash line is Eddie’s proud and happy “Woo!” that he repeats as you make your way across the platform. You just wish he was waiting for you as soon as you stepped off the stage so you could run into his arms. But as you step down and are about to head back to your seat, you look up and see where your family is up in the stands.
When they realize you’re looking at them, the boys wave excitedly, both hands flapping over their heads. Wayne and Gin both give you waves as well. Your eyes are glued to Eddie though, as he presses his hand to his mouth and then extends it towards you, blowing a kiss your way. A girlish giggle bubbles out of you at the gesture and you blow one right back to him.
It feels like ants scurrying out of an ant hill as you exit the arena and try to find familiar faces amongst the thousands of family members and friends who are here to support their loved ones today.
Jess comes up beside you and loops her arm through yours. You flash her a quick smile and the two of you fight your way through the crowd, searching for your people.
Your name catches your attention and your head whips to the left to see Luke’s small hands cupped around his mouth. It’s a swim upstream as you tug Jess in that direction, but you finally make it to find Eddie waiting with a bouquet of carnations in his hand.
More tears threaten to spill over as he hands them to you with a smile so full of admiration and pride on his face.
“Congratulations, sweetheart.”
The wrapper around the flowers crinkles in your hand and you make sure it’s held tight in your fist as you throw your arms around your boyfriend’s neck and hug him as close as you can manage. Eddie doesn’t hesitate for a moment, his arms encircling your waist and holding your body up against his.
“Thank you,” you say loud enough for him to hear over the crowd. “I love you so much.”
“They’re from us, too!” you hear Luke say.
With a soft chuckle, you pull away from Eddie who is raising an eyebrow at his boys.
“Are they, now? I must’ve missed the part where you chipped in,” he says.
“You must’ve,” Luke agrees with a shrug.
You laugh and hand the flowers to Eddie so you can pull both boys in for a big hug. Each of them gets squeezed in an arm but they cling to you just as tightly.
“You were on stage!” Ryan says when you let go.
“And I heard you cheering for me!” you tell him.
“Can I wear your hat?” Luke asks.
“Oh, I need a picture of that,” you say while nodding your head.
That leads to dozens of pictures being taken. You with everyone at once, you with everyone individually, you and Jess goofing off before she went off to find her family. Luke takes a handful while wearing your cap but Eddie plops it back on your head so he can take a few more with you.
Both boys make gagging noises as Gin snaps a picture of Eddie giving you a kiss. Their groans only grow as you wrap your arms around Eddie’s neck and sink further into the kiss, another snapshot being taken.
“Please tell me that one isn’t going to get hung up anywhere,” Luke gripes.
For the next picture, Eddie wraps his arm tightly around your waist and dips you, causing you to let out a mixture of a squeal and laughter as your hands cling to him for stability. You’re aware of the flash of the camera going off but it’s nothing compared to the brightness of Eddie’s grin as he looks down at you. It makes your heart pound faster than the adrenaline from the feeling of almost falling could ever do.
Once multiple roles of film have been used, the camera gets tucked away and it’s time to get going. Eddie offers to drive you back, just the two of you, since Gin drove you here and she’s headed straight back home. Wayne can take the boys back to give you and Eddie some time alone.
“Thank you for coming,” you say to your sister as you pull her in for a hug.
“I wouldn’t miss it,” she tells you. “I’m so proud of you.”
“Thank you.”
It makes you smile to see how the Munsons all hug her goodbye as well–even shy little Ryan. With one last wave, your sister heads towards the parking lot and Wayne ruffles the hair of the two boys.
“Ready, knuckleheads?” he asks.
“Can I wear your cap home?” Luke asks.
“Sure.” You hand the blue piece of regalia to him and instead of switching it out with his fedora like he did for the pictures, he just stacks it on top of his own hat.
“That’s a great look,” Eddie tells him, to which Luke winks in response.
“Will you take these for me, Ry?” you ask, offering the eight-year-old your bouquet of pastel-colored flowers.
“Of course!” The wrapper crinkles as the boy situates the long stems against his shorter frame.
You press a kiss to both boys’ cheeks before they head towards the parking lot with Wayne. Eddie laces his fingers with yours and you go to follow in the same direction the others just went, when Eddie tugs you back and smacks a kiss to the back of your hand.
“How about a little campus tour before we go?” he asks.
“Oh?” you ask, raising your eyebrows. “Anywhere in particular you want to see?”
Eddie shrugs. “Your favorite spots. Somewhere there’s no one else, maybe.”
“Right,” you say, a smirk tugging the corners of your lips. “Let’s see what we come across.”
Hand in hand, the two of you take a leisurely stroll through the quad of campus. Where there are usually people studying or picnicking during the semester, now there are graduates and families taking pictures and celebrating. The warm day outside leads you to the cool shelter of the student center at the far end of the yard, where you spent a lot of your college days having lunch. It’s mostly empty now, no one having any real need to be in here other than to escape the brutal sun.
An empty hallway catches Eddie’s eye, and he leads you by the hand to follow him in that direction. His boots squeak against the white linoleum tiles and your heels clack as you step behind in his wake. There isn’t much down this way except for a few offices that are now empty, a room full of vending machines, and some bathrooms.
Your boyfriend takes advantage of the latter, the empty hallway leading him to believe there will be no one in the men’s room. His gamble is correct as he pulls you in behind him. He moves quick as lightning to turn the lock on the bathroom door, assuring that no one will interrupt the two of you.
Eddie’s lips are on yours a heartbeat later, both his and your hands going to the zipper of your graduation gown. Neither of you can get it down blindly, but Eddie’s too impatient to make another go at it. Instead, he grips your hips and helps you sit on the peach granite counter behind you. The gown gets rucked up your body, the dress he’s so fond of joining it until they’re both up around your waist.
“Eddie,” you whimper.
“Shhh, shhh, baby,” Eddie croons as he sinks down to his knees. Soft, plush lips trail hot kisses from the inside of your left knee all the way up to the apex of your thighs. Large, strong hands massage up and down your legs as his lips never leave your skin, touching and teasing everywhere except where you need him the most.
Eddie lets his eyes slip closed not only to let himself enjoy the feeling of having his hands and lips worship your soft skin, but also because if he gets one more look at the wet patch on your purple lace panties, he’s going to rip them off of you and the fun will end far too soon.
“Eddie, please,” you beg.
“I’ve got you, princess,” he says softly.
Torturously slow, Eddie’s mouth comes closer to your center, the heat of his breath making you curl your toes before he even comes in contact with you. Brown doe eyes open to look at you, darkened by lust as he finally presses his mouth against your core, kissing against the wet patch of your panties that’s driving him so wild. Pleasure flutters in your pussy, your hole clenching around nothing as Eddie opens his mouth and grips the material of your panties with his teeth. As quick as he grabbed them, he lets them go, letting the wet lace smack back against your clit.
“God, I need you,” Eddie growls.
Calloused fingers work themselves up the outside of your thighs and grip the purple material at your hips. You arch your back, head resting against the bathroom mirror, to assist your boyfriend in ridding you of your underwear, which he shoves into the back pocket of his pants.
Now with nothing between him and your soaked pussy, Eddie eyes it greedily and the way he stares at your bare sex turns you on even more. You choke on a breath as he dives in, tongue instantly running from your hole up to your clit. He decides to keep his attention there, flicking the sensitive nub with his tongue before sucking it into his mouth.
“Fuck,” you moan. Eddie’s responding moan reverberates up your core, adding another layer of pleasure to his mouth on you.
He hitches your left leg over his shoulder to open you up even more for him, going in to devour you like his life depends on it. His hot, long tongue glides through your folds as he licks at you, not stopping even for a moment to catch his breath–not giving you a moment of reprieve as his mouth works against your pussy like it was made for this.
You never want this–him–to stop but Eddie’s too God damn good with his mouth for you to last long.
“E-Eddie, please.” You’re not sure what you’re pleading for as you reach down and grip the curls on the top of the older man’s head in your hand. It takes all of your control not to rut your hips against his sinful mouth.
Even though you’re not sure what you’re asking for, Eddie somehow knows what you need—he always does. He slips a finger inside of you, quickly followed by a second, as he keeps his mouth working on your clit. His eyes are trained on yours, not breaking contact for a second as his tongue laps at your clit and his fingers pump in and out of your greedy pussy.
If the feeling alone wasn’t about to bring you over the edge, the sight before you was.
“Oh, I’m gonna, I-I’m gonna–”
You don’t have time to finish your thought as your orgasm rushes over you, pleasure sparking throughout your body and leaving a tingle in your veins that only Eddie can give you. Thick fingers continue to work you through it, his tongue not giving up its assault on your clit until he’s wrung every ounce of ecstasy he can from you.
Once your muscles relax and you’re panting above him, Eddie slips his fingers from inside of you and stands up. He wastes no time slipping them into his mouth, moaning as he savors the taste of you. You’d come again just from that if you had the energy.
“Eddie,” you whisper between labored breaths.
“I love how much you say my name,” your boyfriend says as he leans over your body and presses his lips against yours.
The sound of Eddie’s zipper being pulled down shoots a thrill of excitement through you as the two of you exchange easy, lazy kisses. His hard cock nudging at your hole has you breaking your mouth away from his, a whimper tumbling from your lips.
“Yes,” you whine, the only word in your otherwise blank mind.
His initial push into you has you gripping at his shoulders, throwing your head back, which Eddie takes full advantage of and attaches his lips to your throat. The deeper he sinks into you, the harder your nails dig into the back of the button up shirt Eddie wore just for the occasion today.
“Shit,” Eddie huffs with a small laugh. “I’m not gonna last long, baby. Fuck, been hard since I saw you this afternoon. Couldn’t stop thinking about how bad I wanna fuck you since then. How bad I needed to taste you. Feel that tight, perfect pussy of yours squeezing me so fuckin’ good.”
You lift your head up to look at him through heavy-lidded eyes.
“Even though m’not your college girl anymore?” you ask through your shallow breathing.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie growls, gripping your hips tighter and adjusting the angle that he pushes into you. “You’re my college graduate. My smart girl. My smart girl who gets so dumb on my cock, doesn’t she?”
“Uh huh.” You nod, your head heavy as the familiar pressure builds up in your lower tummy.
“That’s my girl.”
“So close,” you whine.
“Me too, baby. Come on. Be my good girl and come with me.”
One of Eddie’s hands leaves your hips and his thumb presses against your clit, making tight circles just the way he knows drives you crazy.
“Fuck,” you groan.
“Let go, princess.”
“Shit, I-I’m coming!”
Eddie spilling into you, coating your walls with his warm seed elevates this orgasm as you hold onto your boyfriend for dear life. Lightning sparks everywhere his body touches yours and pure bliss washes over you like a wave on the surf.
It takes a few minutes for the two of you to catch your breath. Eddie’s body hovers over yours and, if you’re honest, you’d be fine if he never moved. Eventually, he has to though, which also means pulling out of you. Though you whine at the loss, Eddie is right there to help clean you up and press sweet kisses to your mouth.
“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.
“Mmm, I would hope so,” you tease, throwing your arms around his neck.
Eddie has one arm draped around your shoulders as you walk down the hallway to his apartment door. He keeps pressing kisses to your temple and running the material of your graduation gown between his fingers.
“What’re the odds the boys will be asleep?” Eddie asks when you’re one door away.
“Slim to none,” you answer with a bark of laughter. “It’s still light out.”
“Details, details.” Eddie grabs the doorknob and tosses the front door open, allowing you to step inside first.
But you don’t even get one foot over the threshold before your eyes take in the sight before you. A large banner reading “Congratulations!” hangs in the archway that leads to the bedrooms and the apartment is crowded with people. Your jaw drops and it takes your brain a few moments to recalibrate. Once it does, you spin around to face Eddie and swat at his arm.
“I told you I didn’t want a party!”
Eddie shakes his head, a shit-eating grin on his face, as he leads you into the apartment and closes the door behind him. All six Harringtons are here, Max, Lucas, and their daughter Tiffany, and Wayne with both boys, who look more mischievous than ever.
“Oh no, this isn’t a graduation party,” Eddie says.
Nancy steps forward, a sly smile on her face, when you narrow your eyes at Eddie.
“Nope,” she echoes. “It’s an employee performance review.”
You stare at her for a moment, not comprehending her words.
“What?”
She can’t help but let out a small chuckle so Steve steps up to her side to help her out.
“You’re our employee, right? Watch the kids? So, we reviewed your performance and determined it was excellent.”
“Which of course calls for a party,” Nancy explains, gesturing to the living room full of people around her.
“And the fact that it happens to be on the day I graduated college?” you ask, tilting your head to look at Eddie.
“Complete coincidence,” he says with an innocent shrug.
“Look, look, look!” Luke bounds over and grabs your hand, leading you over to the counter that separates the kitchen and the living room.
A large sheet cake with vanilla icing and blue piping rests there, bearing the words “Congrats Grad!” in gold lettering.
It brings a smile to your face, but you smile even wider as you look down at Luke and then over at Ryan.
“Did you two know about this?” you ask.
“Maaaaybe,” Ryan drawls.
“I can’t believe you kept a secret from me!”
You pull Luke in against your chest and start to tickle his sides. He squirms, trying to get away from you as he howls in laughter.
“Ahh! Ryan! Help me!”
Ryan rushes over and tries to tug his little brother out of your grasp, but you’re quicker. You pull the older Munson brother into your clutches as well and he becomes another victim of your tickling. They both shriek and try to run, but you cease your tickling to wrap your arm around each boy and press a kiss to the top of their heads.
“You little sneaks,” you say.
“Can we have cake now?” is Luke’s only reply. He doesn’t wait for a response before posing another question. “Do you make a wish on graduation cakes?”
“What would you wish for, babe?” Eddie says as he walks over to you. He looks like he’s trying not to laugh, and you furrow your brow. “Would it be to fly like Mary Poppins?”
Your eyes widen as all the heat in your body rushes to your face.
“I’m going to kill my sister.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#older!eddie#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fic#eddie munson imagine#dad!eddie#AYW#AYWS#request
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How would Dark-Yandere!Farmer react to finding reader taking Polaroid photo shoots of his retired senior dogs in silly clothing like sunglasses, hair clips, etc. Btw love your writing keep up the good work!🫶🏼
Dark-Yandere!Farmer x GN!Reader
TW - Readers def developing Stockholm Syndrome or something of the sort, nothing else though this fix is sweeter as an apology for the intense one last time about reader being punished. This was meant to be a qick paragraph or two as an answer but I got to deep into lore and this sweet scenario as it’s a side of him we don’t see much. Thanks for the idea glad you’re liking this blog❤️
I’ll proof read later
You’d expressed an interest in his old cameras after he let you rummage through a few boxes he’d stored away. In a box he’s got a old digital camera a Polaroid one and then a really fragile one that’s much older than the rest, you didn’t dare pick it up in fear it would fall adapt just by touch. Then at the bottom of the box, a few images, some developed film some printed. You recognised him in some home images or family portraits, he looked like a happy kid with a cheesy grin sometimes even pictured on this very farm but most of them look to be taken in a small town house.
It’s weird to imagine at one point he was just a normal kid, living a normal life, photos of him blowing out candles on his birthday or with some older family members reminded you that no ones born ‘bad’. Makes you wonder why he’s the way he is now, what happened?
A part of you wanted to take one of those sweet images of him as a child and hide it away, to uncover and re-remind yourself he’s not a living monster but a human and a kind one at times. To ground yourself when he gets angry and all you can see him as is a living demon. To set the aspiration that if he was once so -he can be again.
You recognised a woman from the images as his mother because he kept a image of her in the bedside draw, she looked loving and kind. But he’d never talk about her, answering your careful questions about her with “she was a good mother” or “she was an admirable woman” he seemed emotionally withdrawn about it so you didn’t push it. You figured since she’s dead he’s just remembering her face.
The rest of the pictures seemed to be from the building of this farm, dated on the back in scruffy hands writing, maybe by his father or grandfather. You could look through this pile of history for hours, not just to learn more about your captor but about the history of this place and the his family that he’s so reluctant to talk about.
The ladder to the attic creaks behind you and his distinct heavy boots land with a thud and groan on the ladder steps “what’s got you so occupied up here?” You felt like you’d been caught looking in something you shouldn’t have despite having permission “j-just these cameras, I had a polaroid camera once” you turned to him showing him the old camera, he now off the ladder and standing over you.
“Hmm, old thing -maybe older than us” he gently took it from you hands to inspect it “probably still works if you want it, not any use just sitting up here” he hands it back “thank you” you reply with a smile he waves you off and crouches down beside the box with you. He shuffles through it completely ignoring the images from his past and he rummages in search of something “No film stacks though, I’ll pick some up from town next time”
“Really?” You look over at him in excitement, he shrugs “sure” he stands up ready to head back down stairs “had I known you’d be so happy I’d have gotten you one sooner” he chuckles at your excitement over something so small.
To you it’s much more than a old camera to take up some free time when you get bored. It’s yours, you can control it, keep it for your own. You don’t have much things that’s yours anymore but the collections growing.
...
You’d basically forgotten about getting film for your camera as a week or two had passed. But he hadn’t, he returned to the truck once again being one of may shops he had to stop at. But this time he didn’t have heavy bags of stock or material and tools for the farm but just 3 small boxes that he could carry in just one hand.
He sat down in his seat and extended his hand to give you the boxed, you furrowed your brows in confusion until you read one of the box’s. A big smile plastered you face when you got to the word ‘film’ “that should be enough to last you a long while” “thank you” you grinned giving him a quick hug out of appreciation.
Once you both pulled into the driveway of the farm you had already thought up many picture opportunities, and you couldn’t wait to get to it. The car parked and he gave you the go ahead “You can finally get to your photography, take some pretty pictures” you practically ran to the house to retrieve the camera.
...
You’d been in the house for a hour or two at this point and he’d began to get a bit concerned, usually you’d come outside now and then or spend the afternoon in the barn playing with the animals. But no sign of you. He put the final nail into the fence he was fixing and decided to come check on you.
He got to the front door and could hear you laughing before even opening it “good boy Berty, you’re so handsome” his curiosity peaked at those words, he quietly made his way to the room you and presumably Berty the elderly farm dog was in and observed from the door frame.
There you sat, infront of Berty whose dressed up in various items and fabrics mimicking clothes. The camera clicks and your silent as you watch it develop, Berty still sits patiently. “We got the picture, look at how dapper you look” you praise him and he gets exited leaving all the items fall off his as he runs up to you to get pet.
“When I said pretty pictures I was envisioning landscapes or with artistic vision” he jokes still standing in the door way unable to not smile at such a bizarre but cute sight. You stand shocked for a moment, he’s not one to creep up on you, it when you see his amused smile you loosen back up. “This is artistic vision, and Bertys my muse, look at how handsome” you joke and show him the photo “it’s something alright” he almost laughs out.
“Hey, this is worthy of a museum, the composition the choice of colours the muse, it all tells a story” you continue to joke, he just shakes his head unable to wipe away his smile “as long as your happy, I guess” “I am, thank you again” moments like this you forget everything you went though and are able to exist in ignorance.
Those moments are becoming more frequent now especially since he’s began to become more relaxed, he wasn’t as authoritarian anymore, your sure if you pushed it he wouldn’t have a 2nd thought of going back to the way things were. There’s always that lingering threat but it’s not as pronounced anymore. You’re starting to see the love he has for you, sometimes unconventional and deranged possessiveness but moments like this, seeing him smile and joke you can delude yourself into believing he’s a normal partner.
He brings you in closer by the hips “you’re so cute” his grin is akin to the little boy in those pictures, you’ve seemed to restore a part of his childish cheer. He pecks your lips “I bet the barn animals are missing you, maybe you should take this photography session to them, I’m sure they’ll appreciate the attention”
And that’s what you did, dressed up the chickens though they didn’t stay still -the cows were great models -but a few animals tried to eat the accessories and clothing which made things harder. The farmer got less work done than normal that afternoon as he found it quite amusing and cute watching you through the cracked barn door trying to wrestle a bow onto a goat.
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DM Tip: The Debt Always Comes Due
Isn't it weird how little we engage with gold as a real gameplay system? Sure, at low level wealth makes a great questhook, the party is usually hurting for a payout so that they can afford necessary gear upgrades/ubiquitous healing potion restocks/their next trip to the magic item shop. After a while though the promise of raw wealth loses its lustre, and the party is less likely to go out of their way to accept bounties, go off chasing treasuremaps, or accept gigs from shady patrons.
Generally I'd advise that this is a sign that your party are done being run of the mill sellswords, and it's time to hit them with a big epic questline that's focused more on emotional and narrative stakes than base currency. That said, sometimes you want to run a longer adventure arc that's centred around the acquisition of wealth, but to do that, you're going to need to go against the grain on one of the foundational assumptions that underpins D&D both mechanically and narratively.
TLDR: If you want your party to be motivated by gold past their first big pay off you should consider using a "wealth hurdle", which in short is a narrative and gameplay challenge that forces them to collect not only more gold than they already have but also more gold than they could get doing what they've been doing so far. This can be anything from a crimelord calling in a debt on them or one of their allies, a powerful monster swooping in and demanding tribute, comissioning some grand construction, or funding the defence of a region. Having the hurdle active should cause problems for the party, and not clearing the hurdle before a perdetermiend deadline will immensely bad things to happen. This will force the party to take risks they otherwise wouldn't, giving a high degree of focus to their subsequent adventures that they wouldn't have if they were content.
What we're trying to fix:
At it's core, D&D is a power fantasy, and a good chunk of its gameplay mechanics regardless of edition are about acquiring new strengths, options, and assets. These assumptions are likewise built into the genre and narrative structure of most campaigns: Heroes undertake quests usually for the promise of some reward, gain experiance/hit milestones along the way, and eventually stumble across some kind of loot drop at the end. There's nothing strictly wrong with this, but it does mean that all the resource problems the heroes face in the early game (and the inbuilt motivations that come along with them) are all but resolved by the time they hit the next gameplay tier.
This is complicated by the fact that outside of 3rd party options there's not much to spend money on. The DMG (which you should totally ignore) say you shouldn't let them buy magic items, and the common wisdom would say "let them buy a keep", but that solution only appeals a niche selection of adventuring parties.
Using Weath Hurdles turns acquiring gold not just into a quest goal but a gameplay challenge, forcing your party to scour the land for potential sources of wealth (and risk upsetting whoever or whatever happens to be currently holding it) and take on challenges they'd never normally attempt if there was only survival/personal enrichment at stake.
Food for Thought:
Tradional d&d structure has the party getting a huge payout at the end of their adventure in the form of a bosshoard or questgiver reward which is a very backloaded "you can have your dessert after you finish your greens" sort of attitude. Consider switching it up sometimes: have the party's patron or employer give them a small stipend to spend on kitting themselves out, have an early game treasure haul so the party can have a mid-arc shopping episode. This is especially useful in higher level games where your party may go weeks to months without a level up as it preserves the feeling of progression and gives them new toys to play with in between the big character defining abilities.
Recently I've been learning my way around blades in the dark (can't reccomend it enough btw), and just like any other time I've wanted to learn a new ttrpg system I'm having to do a bit of neural rewiring when it comes to figuring out how to write and run sessions of the game. Coin in BitD is both an XP (used for upgrading the party's shared crew sheet) a resource (burned to upgrade the results of various rolls) and a stat ( rolled to see if the players can lay their hands on various hard to come by items). It didn't really click for me until my first group messed up really badly on what was supposed to be their introductory adventure and pissed off the local crimeboss. I was just going to have him bully them, lock them up and then have a jailbreak the next session ( it's what I'd do in d&d), but on the fly I had the idea that he'd let them go with a massive debt they needed to pay off, which forced them to either pay him a percentage of their takings on all future jobs, or do small jobs in utmost secrecy so that they could build up their own strength under his nose.
Interestingly enough, the d&d game where I thought player wealth as a resource was most interestingly used was Dimension 20’s starstruck Odessy, which was a conversion of the amazing fanmade starwars5e system. Starstruck is a parody of hypercapitalism and aptly uses money as both a narrative and gameplay feature. One character is stuck paying weekly insurance premiums on a debt he would never be able to pay down forcing him to act recklessly to acquire wealth in the immediate future. Another character was a economic and political power player and some of the best moments in the series come from her high stakes wheeling and dealing and bouncing money between accounts while the rest of the group engages in epic space battles; the rest of the crew might’ve barely got their ship out of the dogfight, but she’s the one who ensures they can pay for the repairs once they get to the space dock. None of this would be possible without completely ignoring the normal constraints of wealth per level: gaining and losing huge sums based on moment by moment player decisions, The need for them to play along with the absurist gig economy to boost their rating and get better paying jobs, making a devil’s bargain with a corporate sponsor all so that they could risk their lives in a deadly arena fight all for the (very unlikely) chance of winning the equivalent of a million GP. Not every campaign should, or even could so focus on money in this way, but it was FASCINATING to watch it in action.
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Ive always had this feeling which I call "The dark ending", cause you know, darkness? Dark- nevermind
But bassicly so far every chapter (that being two), has either had the weird or snow grave routes, which over the course of the 5 will have similar routes. Now there will be the actual good ending, unlocked by completing all chapters as normal (and maybe a secret type of ending which unlocks after getting all 7 dark crystals, one for each chapter), but the dark ending will be unlocked by doing the weird routes in ALL 7 chapters in order, starting with one with information being carried on two the next chapters.
Gonna be honest, its probally not an original theory, and Im sure hundreds, probably thousands have already reached the same conclusion.
What that ending is, im honestly scared to think of because of the information and implications given to us about the roaring and stuff, but we all know that some people are gonna want to try kill everything, so Toby of course is gonna want to make us feel bad for doing that. Because its a bad thing, that no one should do, but will do because they can,
And since we can, we have to.
Mmmm, I actually am gonna debate on this one. I don't think the weird route is actually just Undertale's no mercy route version 2.0. I don't think the point of having the weird route this time around will be to teach the same lesson as UT, where completionism and trying to exhaust all possibilities will inevitably distance you from the characters you claim to love. The possibility to kill all monsters in UT was advertised upfront in UT's trailers. The weird route in DR was a complete secret until intrepid players worked hard to find it themselves and share it. This is not a lesson about completionism and emotional distance, this is a lesson about finding secrets, of oldschool creepypastas, about doing things you aren't supposed to be capable of doing.
First off, there is no weird route in chapter one. The differences between being kind to enemies and attacking them are pretty minimal by the end, although that can feed into the larger recruitment mechanic. We also don't know for sure if the weird route will continue with every chapter...there's the possibility that this will only be relevant when Noelle is in the Dark World, considering her penchant for finding weird secrets and glitches in video games. There's also no telling if "weird" means "killing/destroying enemies" every time, or if "weird" can be a more encompassing name for any route that's off the standard path.
And finally...there's also nothing to indicate yet that Toby is being dishonest about there being only one ending. I think it's much more likely that we'll come around to the same conclusion, but are capable of doing so through different paths...the game itself points out that both forging bonds and breaking them are means of gaining strength. It's not about choosing to be kind or cruel like in UT, it's about Kris (and their friends) finding the strength to take control of their own lives. That could be done through following the story as expected, but it could also be done by discovery of hidden secrets.
I don't know what sort of places we'll go with the weird route, but I feel pretty confident in the idea that it won't be the same places that Undertale went.
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⊱ tagged by @thanekrios to recommend some books! I've been back to reading since last winter and it brings me so much joy so I'd absolutely love to talk more about books! ☕🌸
1. — the last book I read:
GRIEF IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS by Max Porter.
I just love Max Porter's writing style. It's unlike anything I've ever read before. The way he manages to capture some of the deepest, most confusing human emotions in such a succinct way without making them sound too saccharine is incredible.
2. — a book i recommend:
HOLLOW PLACES by Christopher Hadley.
This is my favourite book of all time. I used to sleep with it next to my pillow so the cover is crooked and worn and i love it so much. It's a non-fiction exploration about the life of a medieval legend, how it shaped through the years and affected people around it. It's very much an essay on human memory and culture and our desire to tell stories, inadvertently leaving pieces of ourselves in the narrative as we go. It's beautiful, it's touching, it's incredibly entertaining to read, and it makes me feel so much love inside. As someone who studied folklore and religion in university it is deeply personal for me to visit all the castle ruins and other places people from the past lived in. It's a way to connect with them and to see that even though we are so incredibly different, we are also incredibly similar in some aspects. And this book captures that so well.
3. — a book that i couldn’t put down:
LANNY by Max Porter.
Another fave from Max Porter. It's about this sleepy village and the eldritch horror forest being that stalks it and a little boy that is very much very strange. It's also a social commentary and an essay on environmental mindfulness. And it's incredible. I finished it in two days.
4. — a book i’ve read twice (or more):
WITCHES ABROAD by Terry Pratchett.
This is where I come out as a Discworld fan. They were a huge part of my childhood and I remember especially loving the books about wizards and the witches. This one was definitely my fave and I did read it basically in one day when I read it for the first time. And I loved it so much I came back to it.
5. — a book on my tbr:
There are literally so many (I have a hoarding problem). But the most recent ones are: The Land of Maybe by Tim Ecott and Master and Margarita.
6. — a book i’ve put down:
The Witcher series... The writing style is really not for me and the plot (and the blatant sexism and male fantasy type of storytelling) lost me after the 5th book (sorry).
7. — a book on my wishlist:
Again, so many. I literally have two excel spreadsheets for my wishlisted books and it's getting out of hand. But the one I am especially keen on getting is A Natural History of Fairies, a beautifully illustrated little guide on fairy folklore.
8. — a favorite book from childhood:
REAPER MAN by Terry Pratchett.
I used to be terrified of death when I was a kid. I still am but now I at least know he loves cats, has a horse called Binky, and supports labor workers.
9. — a book you would give to a friend:
WEIRD MEDIEVAL GUYS by Olivia Swarthout.
If you are my friend then you know that I am absolutely normal (read "insane") about marginalia art. And this book has some of the silliest ones available for your thine pleasure (I would not want to fuck with a rabbit that has a bomb. Or a cat with a massive club. Or the snail with those grabby hands. Like nu-uh. They would grab me. With their hands. Cuz. Ya know... we still friends right???)
10. — a book of poetry or lyrics you own:
KYTICE by Karel Erben.
Okay this is me being Slavic but also not generally into poetry much (as in I don't collect poetry books) but. I adore Kytice. It's a collection of ballads that center around monsters from slavic mythology (eat it witcher I mean I am sorry I just don't like the witcher please don't leave me come back I swear I am more than just a hater listen to me baby give me a chance) and they range from brutally sad to tragic to super gruesome and gory (okay most of them are pretty gory. but in a poetic way). Anyway I am not sure if they were translated to English yet but there is a movie and hopefully that one has subtitles (if not I am gonna learn how to make subtitles because I need people to see it).
11. — a non-fiction book you own:
DON'T TELL MY HORSE by Zora Neale Hurston.
Because we need to mention more classical works by people of color. This is basically an anthropological view on the Haitian + Jamaican voodoo beliefs and it's so incredibly intricate and interesting to read I recommend it to anyone who is interested in the subject or just wants to broaden their range of classical literature.
12. — what are you currently reading:
Alice in Wonderland. I got the prettiest edition for my birthday so I am revisiting my childhood. :3
13. — what are you planning on reading next:
The Land of Maybe by Tim Ecott. It's a book about the slow life and nature of the Faroe Islands which is where I am staying at currently!
⊱ tagging (I am not sure who exactly reads from my mutuals so I will be using my regular tag list, feel free to ignore <3):
@hibernationsuit﹒@lavampira﹒@euryalex﹒@starforger﹒@pawnguild
@florbelles﹒@baldurians﹒@archonfurina﹒@dekarios
@inafieldofdaisies﹒@feykiller﹒@zahra-hydris﹒@noughtomaton﹒@corvus-rose
@ferwynter﹒@thefrostyshepard﹒@melancholicrainstorm﹒@sylvthara﹒@katsigian
@rindemption﹒@juniemoe﹒@eldensrings﹒@claudiawolf﹒@therapyvibes
@sibeal﹒@epheyang﹒@lotusfaebell﹒@ravensgard﹒@princessmelinoe
@lutebard﹒@nokstella﹒@pavus﹒@gothimp﹒and you ♡ — (un)like this post to be added / removed.
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Well, I guess you didn't have much of a choice either
#sooooo fucked up being a teenage boy just messing around with friends one day#and the next weird monsters are after you#and suspicious guys youve never met before start telling you you shouldnt even exist#and even the gentle girl who seems to know SO much that you met#says you have to disappear#all for the sake of this one boy youve never heard of#who apparently everyone loves and wants back#even if it means essentially killing someone else(you)#and youre expected to just. follow along and sacrifice yourself for him#even though you are also a real perosn with real friends (or so you believe)#and at the end you do it#because youre tired and confused#and part of you feels like it should do it#that its the right thing to do#even though you still dont know anything bc no one will tell you#except for the girl but everyone always goes out of their way to stop her#anyway im rambling the kh2 prolouge is so fucked up when u think about it#roxas#sora#kingdom hearts#kingdom hearts 2#kh#kh2#art#my art#xanders art#digital art#fan art
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i would take their poison
Sketch + Line Art for those Clicking Under the Cut(tm) (archival purposes honestly)
#moshi monsters#sweet tooth moshi monsters#experimentation i am COG AWFUL at digital dear goodness i was playing with coloring and transparency and all those fun digital doodads.#next time i probably wont have black outline or i'll do it differently. or i'll try well. not doing this. it sure was a process im#i'm an amateur everyone who masically only doodles. does the sketch look better than the final. kinda! but thats okay because im learning#and y'know what. sometimes in life you just need to draw faves no consequences#for how saturated a character they are i kinda feel like i pastelled things too muc and trapped myself with my convoluted layer setup but m#it was looking WEIRD with everything at full force#maybe the sparkles look dumb maybe the hair looks dumb and out of place and why i kinda made the lollipop a little funky too#uhh. first digital piece posted... ever?#the arm is SO fucky i am not that was. thats not what perspective is spam#yes this is what i spent a good chunk of today doing after i started working on coloring it and then. decided to go for it.#cooolrs a little inaccurate on the horns and such but man one of the biggest art things was like#i dont have to have everything at their perfect hex codes all the time. this would look way worse if i just. used their standard colors#yeah this is. instead of looking like its forward and to the right it kinda just looks like they have a Bigger hypno-lolly#especialy becase. i did not bother on the gloves and platforms i the sparkles work with 2 kinda sorta but you know#im practicing! i'm learning! i'll get better and learn how to do things more effectively!#anyway. sweet toof#though hey their arm looks even more fucked in the line art and sketch SO#note to future self have a Consistent Line Art Size so that if you feel like the line art looks like shit during coloring you dont have to#gamble on what size it was while changing it#sketch lollipop looks better i should have kept it small. but its fine. we'll get em next time boys (tm)#yes i know my gif post was so fancy and then the drawing is just THIS
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the Shifting Tendons video from Gemini Home Entertainment has ruined me. i hate that lump of body horror and flesh so much
Also, words cannot describe the sheer Terror that the Nun Alternate and the long, pitch black face Alternate invoke in me. Call me The Flesh That Hates, the way I see red
#this is probably completely incomprehensible but if you understand half of this. Good for you!#i hope you enjoy the nightmares as little as i do#for example:#i woke up at 4. tried to go back to sleep. started seeing Mandela Catalogue alternate faces and vaguely terrifying shapes when-#-ever i closed my eyes#And then after an *hour* of fighting with it#my brain decides to summon a strip of sponge-y Flesh That Hates/Nature's Mockery on my ceiling. so i just gave up and got ready for the day#i hate this brain. why must it torment me like this#(i say. loading up the next horror video. knowing full well i'll suffer the exact same fate again the next night)#orb rambles#wait that'd be a funny story i think actually#imagine Carrion. but you play as a scientist that has to babysit the flesh monster. it keeps breaking into your room and just hanging out#but you cant really do anything about it so you just get ready for the day while it chews on your ankle.#i love it when stories have such Weird jobs and the people working them are just casually like#'uuuugh i have to go deal with [normally horrifying thing]' as if thats. completely normal.#< this user is obviously sleep deprived
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imagining the wrath of monster!könig if a recruit ever tries to sabotage the hot tub for wifey or makes some dumb remark like: it’s a pot so we can cook her and eat her.
meanwhile wife pet reader has just climbed out of the hot tub, sleepy and all relaxed with no cares in the world.
You think you hear yelling and cracking sounds, but you're too warm and cozy in your bathrobe to care. It's not even your bathrobe to begin with, but you like being surrounded with Konig's smell and you enjoy wearing clothes that are much too big for you. It's weirdly comforting - and you can just close your eyes and doze off, a bit too fried after a nice hot tub session to care about the world around you.
Konig is almost ready to crack the recruit's skull open when he hears you yawning. Your little actions always have this weird effect on him - he is ready to drop everything just to hear you yawn again and again and again, like a kitten. Like the adorable pet he has - which you are on par with being his precious wifey. He appreciates the fact that you're too sleepy to understand that the recruit tried to tamper with your weekly hot tub session - Konig hates seeing you cry and be upset from anything that doesn't involve his direct actions, and he hasn't been in sadistic mood lately. You deserve to have nice things, especially when you're so pleasantly warm and submissive after your bath.
You wrap your arms around his neck when he finally reacher for you and helps you out of the bathroom, allowing his pretty pet wifey to just nap in his arms. He won't be too rough with your body after you just took a bath - he knows you like the feeling of being oiled up on some fragrances and moisturized from countless expensive bath bombs he gave you, so he isn't even fucking you with his tentacles. Simply rocks his hips in a lulling manner, taking pride in fact he can be so gentle with his wife, she could fall asleep with his cock still buried deep in her pussy.
You always sleep better when he fucks you, and he likes to fall on your body after a good fuck, allowing you to gently press your head in his chest and make sure there isn't a worry in the world. You don't even care that he smells like blood and guts of the recruit who tried to comment on you boiling yourself like a chicken in your hot tub - you just want cuddles and, maybe, get Konig in the bath with you next time.
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Yandere! Crazy ex boyfriend
tw: female reader, non - con, heavy degradation, slut-shaming, abuse/violence, mockery of depression, suicidal ideation, obsessive behavior, death threats, dark
It's 2 a.m. and you can't sleep - you keep turning and burying your head into the soft, warm pillow, but something is off. The moon is too bright, coming in from the gap between your heavy curtains. The crickets outside are too loud, playing around and singing the same old melody over and over again. The static silence of the old radio tucked under the drawers is too repetitive, too predictable. All in all, you can feel it in your bones; something is wrong. Very, very wrong.
You hear the steps next. That sinister laughter - getting louder and louder, someone screaming at the top of their lungs, the echo flooding through the thin walls of your small shared flat. Someone's fist is gripping the lock with uneccessary cruelty as if trying to knock it out of the handle. The key falls down in one sharp motion, and your heart stops completely once the door opens with a squeaky, familiar bang - it still makes you jump even after all those months.
"Aww, baby!" The man exclaims, leaning against the door. You're not sure if you are hallucinating due to the countless hours of lost sleep, or there is actually smoke coming out of his old black trenchcoat. You're not even sure if he's trully here, or if this is yet another nightmare. "You didn't bother with locks this time!" He continues, smiling with childlike glee - but you know him too well. He's never peaceful. He's never cheerful. Any indication of happiness the monster exhibits is meant to confuse and trick his prey, and you're not falling for his tricks again. You already got burnt one too many times.
"Does that mean you missed me?" He tilts his head, almost pouting at you. He's all disheveled - a total wreck. The curly, unruly hair you once loved to caress and play with now just seems shaggy and unkept, sticking out like an explosion. His eyes are dark, well, darker, bloodshot, barely recognizable from the warm pots of honey that used to make you melt against him. He's lost weight, yet weirdly enough seems to have gained some muscle. You can't help, but think that it simply looks weird, unnatural even. Adam, the one you remember, was never strong - he was never threatening, never even raised his voice at you. But that was years ago in the sweet, distant dreams of the past, and that boy had died the moment you two moved in together. That's when your hell trully began.
"Were you trying to give me easy access, baby? Hm?" He smirks, interrupting your stream of consciousness. If you were unsure of his physicallity, of his existence, it's bright clear now - because you can never mistake that taunting, humiliating curve to his voice, the one he only uses when he's mad. Really, really mad. "Knew I would be back?"
You take a deep breath, slowly nodding along - maybe if you play nice, he'd just go away. Maybe this time you won't end up in cuts and bruises, all memories, good or bad, completely wiped off your drugged out hazy brain.
"Of course you did." Your ex boyfriend humms in satisfaction, taking a single step towards you - and it makes you tremble all over, no matter how much you wish you could remain calm and collected at the face of Death himself. "Because I told you so, no?" He clenches his teeth, raising his head so his eyes would meet yours. You feel like a deer caught before a trigger guard with an unstable trigger, one second away from being shot in the heart. "I told you-" He steps closer. "That I'll be back-" Another step. "Didn't I, princess?"
You nod again, unable to produce a sound. You almost wish he brought his gun so this little torture session would end quicker. Almost.
"Aww, look at you trying so hard to please me. It's adorable, baby." The man coos, his knee sliding across the edge of your bed. Fear takes a hold of your lungs, squeezing them in until you feel like you're seeing stars - and then Adam climbs on top of you. It all happens so quickly - one moment he's far away, and then he's towering over you, his hot breath ghosting over your sweaty neck, baby hairs sticking out with shivers. You can't shake the terrifying, unescapable feeling that you've been here before. That you somehow always end up underneath him, begging for your life - for mercy he won't ever grant you.
"I wonder where all that enthusiasm was when you decided to run on me." The white part of his eyes suddenly illuminates, brows raised together - he looks deranged. "Huh?" He looks at you, expecting an answer, yet you can't think of one. Your brain is turning to mush, consumed by raw panic - but why does it matter? Whatever you say he'll find a way to use against you. "Answer me, you fucking bitch!" He hisses, voice dropping to a diabolical whisper as his fist snaps around your throat like a metal collar. This seems to break off your stupor, and you open your mouth, ready to yell at whoever is still awake.
"Don't you dare fucking scream, cunt." Adam grips your jaw with one hand, crushing your cheeks into each other. "If I hear a single word come out of that filthy little mouth of yours, I am going to slit your fucking throat." His lips twist in a big sadistic grin you would have wanted to punch had you had the strength to move your arm around. Instead you whimper, defeated. Even after everything, your stupid self preservation instinct won't let you die - so it sacrifices the only thing you have left, your dignity. "And then in the morning your little friends will find you drowning in your own blood." He lowers his face, cold dead lips tracing the rough lines of your collarbone.
"A pretty picture for sure." He bites his lower lip, imagining it for just a second. "Bu-ut I know that even a depressed, suicidal little attention whore like you wouldn't want her friends to be sad." The man adds teasingly, and you can feel the bile back up into your stomach, burning and acidic. You may actually throw up all over him if you're not careful. And then he'd kill you for sure. "I mean, you seem to care for these pesky bugs oh-so much. It'd be a pity to force them to clean up your remains-"
"N-no, that's not true. I don't care about them, I only care about you!" You lie through your teeth, hot, salty tears pricking your eyes as you deny the love you have for the only people who care about you - the ones who basically saved you from a life of abuse and suffering. But apparently nothing good lasts, not when it comes to you. "Adam, I only love y-"
He backhands you - the slap echoes through the roof. Ouch.
"Don't say-" Your ex boyfriend grunts, roughly shoving you down. You take a shallow breath, letting the sting settle in. It's going to leave a red ugly handprint all over your cheek - and yet you stupidly thought your little confession was going to make him happy. Your anchors, the straws that used to buy you time, howerer rare and far in between, are all gone now. You used them up. You've run out of time, out of trick, out of will to keep fighting.
But you know he'll never make good on his threats. He'd never actually kill you - he doesn't love you enough to rid you of this miserable obsession that ties you together. And yet you tremble every time you feel the graze of his knife against your skin - you cower whenever he raises his hand. And you break down when he holds you close, hoping, praying that this time his embrace would prove just suffocating enough for you to stop breathing all together. It never does.
"Don't say you love me. You don't love me." Adam hisses in your ear, venom dripping off each word. "And I don't even care if you love me." He turns you around, pushing your face into your pillow - muffling your cries into weak, hiccuping sobs. "You're nothing." He swallows, averting his gaze to your lower body - yanking your shorts down with little concern as to whether they'd rip or not. "You amount to nothing, you're lower than dirt. You're just a fucked up little bitch." The man keeps mouthing off, and you can't decide what hurts more - his nails digging into your hips, or the razor sharp insults. " I never want you to forget that you deserve everything I give you."
You cry out as his massive length enters you with absolutely no preparation. It hurts - you're dry and it chaffs against your walls with nothing to make it slide freely, bruising your cervix. Your muscles are trying to push the foregin object out, but it keeps pushing in and out of you in forceful uniform thrusts. Between the waves of sharp and stinging-hot pain you manage to form a coherent thought - and you're surprised. Surprised that the man is even able to stay hard when all he feels right now is anger. Not love or affection, not even lust. Just anger. Surprised your body is still going even after your mind has given up. Surprised that, even despite all your protests and agony, you are growing used to this.
"I gave you everything." Adam start off again, picking up the pace of his thrusts. "Everything - but you're too much of a selfish whore to see." He pulls your hair back so you'd face him from beneath - then he slaps you with all force. "I want to mess up that pretty little face of yours." His hand connects to your cheek once again. You know you'll wake up all puffy and blue tomorrow morning - if you even wake up. "I want you so goddamn ugly no one wants you anymore." He pulls you in by your shirt, smashing his lips against yours with a brutal force - as if he's trying to become one with you, and break your face at the same time. "I want you so ruined-" He kisses you again, teeth running into teeth - yet he's the one to bite you first. "And lonely that you have no one else to turn to."
"I want you broken." He pulls away just to stare into your empty eyes, voice now back to a whisper. "As broken as me."
#yandere#yancore#male yandere#male yandere x reader#yandere oneshot#yandere x you#yandere male x reader#yandere oc#yandere oc x reader#yandere smut
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📂 Op men + them being jealous
part 1
Featuring: Monster trio (Luffy, Sanji, Zoro)
Warning: fluffy fluff, ended up being the monster trio being subtly jealous lol
Ik I was going to make it suggestive but I like it better that way, might change it for the others
Note : After 200 weeks, 1500 minutes and 25 years, I’m finally posting this serie after thousands of drafts 👩🏻💻 y’all don’t know how many times I wrote and erased stuff 😭
Luffy
The crew just landed on a new island, it was a huge forest, not a person in sight. You weren’t particularly a big fan of walking around in an unknown deserted place, especially in the New World where you never knew on what or who you could fall.
On the other side, Luffy was absolutely fearless and enjoyed the thrill of exploring the unknown and seeing unusual creatures; Sailing was all about that for him. An adventure wasn’t an adventure if he didn’t feel that rush of adrenaline faced to a strange situation. He had insisted you come with the exploring team while you pleaded to stay behind with Robin and Usopp.
But here you were walking glued to Sanji as your boyfriend lead the way somewhere in this lost territory filled with trees and the noises of wild animals. He was screaming in excitement when he came across weird insects or odd looking vegetables. You sighed heavily as the anxiety was still heavily present in your system.
The cook adjusted his pace to match yours sensing your uneasiness about the situation. He knew you only came for Luffy, so he made sure to help you feel more comfortable in his own way.
Luffy ran forward as he noticed a beautiful blue flower tinted with yellow strokes that looked like gentle waves. He took it and searched for you with his eyes.
-This would look so pretty on your hair!
He exclaimed as he walked over to you and Sanji while waving the flower in his tan hand. You smiled as you thought it was adorable, but Luffy’s eyes quickly glared at your arms wrapped around Sanjis. He didn’t say anything and simply fixed the flower behind your ear, complimenting you with loving eyes and his cute grin.
-You look perfect!
He announced as he put his arm around your neck, naturally removing you from Sanji. A giggle left your lips as you melt into his familiar warmth. His eyes looked down at you with so much love and care, he wouldn’t want nothing to happen to you. Sanji laughed as he noticed Luffy successful attempt to get you away from him.
Your boyfriend closed the distance between his face and yours. With slightly furrowed eyebrows and serious eyes, he wondered if you were fine.
-Yeah, I just feel uneasy about walking here if I’m being truly honest. I’m not a fearless warrior like you, let’s say~
You explained calmly as you stared back into his big brown eyes. His expression softened up and he moved his arm to be able to grab your hand instead.
-Alright, then stay close to me only. I’m the strongest, so I will protect you no matter what! I promise!
-You’re sweet, thank you Luffy.
He gave a squeeze to your hand as you two followed the group through the millions of trees. Luffy smiled to himself, knowing you were relying on him to protect you now~
Zoro
It was all going well, a great night where Zoro was simply enjoying his time drinking with the others. It was all going great until he noticed a man that kept staring at you. You didn’t notice as you were busy goofing around with Usopp, enjoying a fun conversation.
Zoro felt this feeling of frustration grow in him the more he glared at the person shamelessly eyeing you like he clearly couldn’t see you were taken. That’s when it snapped for him: maybe they couldn’t tell? And that angered him even more. How can this person stare at you like a candy while he was sitting just next to you.
The swordsman pulled you closer to him, making sure his arm around your waist is noticeable. He smirked relieved when he saw the man look away with an annoyed huff. He took a sip from his beer as his smile got bigger. Zoro took that opportunity to slip a quick peck on your jawline.
You stared at him weirdly, wondering what have gotten into him.
-Wassup with you?
-I cant kiss you or what?
-Yeah, but you don’t usually do that.
-You always complain
He whined as he rolled his eye, but still he was glad that no one was hungrily looking your way anymore. You were his and he would make the possible to make it known. Even if it needed him to be outside of his comfort zone, he was going to make sure you were safe from lingering unwanted eyes (maybe to also make himself feel better)
You gave him a funny look, confused about his unusual bright expression. You pecked his lips not giving too much thoughts about it, before going back to your conversation with Usopp. You leant your body on your boyfriends that surprisingly responded to it by holding your waist tighter and rubbing his thumb against your tummy.
-You’re really acting strange, but I ain’t complaining
You said under your breath so only he could hear. He chuckled as he drank some more. You looked over your shoulder with a smile.
-Great, because you’re not leaving my side tonight.
Sanji
Hand in hand, you two walked through the village in the middle of all the varieties of shops surrounding y’all. You wanted to buy a necklace so you were hopeful to find something of your taste and Sanji was more than willing to help you.
He had already made his grocery shopping with you yesterday and organized everything late in the evening, so it was his rest day. He wanted to enjoy the sunny weather with his awesome lover on this pretty day.
It all started when the seller was proposing you multiple options at the table and he invited you to come in the store for something more refined for a beautiful person like you. Sanji didn't care, because of course you are beautiful, so it was only natural that other people would notice. He nodded excited to see what other options the man had that could fit you even better.
Sanji cocked an eyebrow when the seller pushed your hair behind your shoulders and got close to your face as he commented about you smelling good. You laughed as you thanked him, mentioning how your boyfriend bought the scent for you as you pointed at the cook. He put a gorgeous silver piece around your neck and handed you a mirror.
-What do we think?
He asked with a content expression, you stared at the mirror with a floating smile as you nodded, approving the jewelry.
-It's so gorgeous! Oh! What about this one?
You asked as your eyes flew to a more elegant necklace. You walked away from Sanji quickly as you engaged in a great conversation with the seller about the jewelries and some specific information, that your lover was honestly unfamiliar with. Sanji felt like you kind of forgot about him and started to wander around the store on his own as he kept an eye on you, still.
"...should I get into jewelries.."
It was those type of thoughts that occupied his mind as he sulked in his corner. Though, Sanji is a gentleman and he loved more than anything to see you happy and passionate, so he put his jealousy aside to let you enjoy your moment. So, he put his ego aside and started to think about which one would look hotter on you-
-Chérie, have you find something you liked?
He asked you as he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into him. You hummed as you looked at the other man and you both nodded, agreeing on something the cook had no clue about.
-I'm going to take this one, what do you think babe?
Sanji kissed your cheeks and whispered in your ears with a smirk.
-They all look beautiful to me, because you are stunning. I don't think I will be of a great help, my love.
You smiled to yourself, because Sanji likes whatever you wear or not. On his end, he just wanted to leave already and pamper you with kisses & hickeys all over your neck to celebrate your new necklace and maybe to let people know you were his..
#one piece#one piece headcanons#one piece zoro#zoro headcanons#tomiewrites🌷#ace sabo luffy#one piece luffy#monkey d. luffy#luffy fluff#luffy x reader#luffy x you#zoro fluff#roanoa zoro#zoro x reader#zoro x y/n#vinsmoke sanji#sanji x reader#sanji fluff#sanji smut#one piece sanji
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as big as the friend confession scene is i love this part best. laios is ofc still under the impression that kabru likes monster food and went thru this big effort to make something special for him and then kabru goes out of his way to be so warm and sweet, and frankly a bit flirtatious like i know he thinks that exit killed it
and hes kinda right bc laios cannot stop staring after him when he leaves and i cannot attribute all that to him being confused about what kabru meant by "dont forget me next time". like laios means it if he says something like "meeting you was the best part of this" those are not empty words even if hes under a false impression about kabru--i dont think its just that kabru shared his interest that has his attention either. i think its bc kabru really engaged with him. i dont think his opinion wouldve changed much if kabru said "nahhhh im good i wont eat a monster cool for you tho have fun" instead of saying he would try it
(and he really is trying the 'laugh at anything he says so he'll feel special' strat here huh.....)
and kabru despite being a stranger he helped get thru to shuro about falins resurrection
and he does it with a sensitivity and care that laios wishes he was capable of and he know it limits him as a leader
the thought laios keeps having about kabru isnt "wow he loves monsters too!" its "wow he is sooooo nice :3" which he is! at this stage he likes kabru bc he feels heard by him and kabru has qualities he knows he lacks but admires greatly and didnt make fun of him or call him weird for his interest in monsters
the way kabru acts and thinks about laios at this point feels allegorical to how people feel in new relationships. can i trust you? are you who you seem? if i tell you how ive been hurt, will you use this to hurt me or to protect me? i dont know yet, but i like you so far, so im going to show you the self that i think you'll like best. i want to impress you. i want you to trust me so maybe i can trust you
so much of dungeon meshi is about the way that we accidentally hurt our loved ones because we cant always understand them, or we dont know whats best for them when theyve been hurt in such complex ways, or because were too scared of being hurt again to tell them not to press into the bruise (see: chimera falin, falin giving up parts of her life to suit/protect marcille and laios bc she loves them, laios driving marcille deeper into the winged lions grip TWICE with his advice in the nightmares and again with the dungeon rabbits, everything chilchuck has ever done in his whole life, laios' father's everything also, and this is a labru post so ofc kabru lying about wanting to eat monsters to impress laios) i wouldnt be surprised if the allegory was intentional
anyways this part of their relationship budding into a toxic little flower theyll have to prune later is very cute to me and i really like reading it again knowing how they turn their relationship around later into one built on a mutual understanding and trust
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Eddie led a weird life.
This was something he welcomed, given half the things people thought were “weird” was just his fashion sense or preference for table top games.
Small potatoes to the larger things in life, really.
Of course, this was before he found out there was an evil version of Hawkins underneath him.
Now Eddie did things that would previously sent his old self into a fucking coma.
His friendship with Steve Harrington for example.
Dude saved his life and bridal-style carried him out of literal hell.
It’d have been rude not to be friendly with the guy after that, even if they weren’t both members of a very exclusive and bloody club, with trauma and secrets that really only a select few people would ever understand.
Sleeping over at Harrington’s half the week also made perfect sense, and Eddie will argue that to his very grave.
It turns out nightmares suck, and waking up screaming all the time sucks even more.
Something everyone involved in this entire escapade (and all the ones prior) knew.
Because more bodies means more eyes to look out for you, and feeling safe means you might actually sleep for an hour, they all got used to showing up at each other's houses at odd hours of the night.
Pulled one another out of nightmares and got comfortable with the fact that they slept better, together.
Steve’s house in particular is typically void of both adults and annoying freshmen, which meant it's the most comfortable place for a lot of people to crash together.
(Sometimes the annoying freshmen do show up and maybe Eddie is also a little weirdly overprotective of the whole Party now, and alright fine, he enjoys all their company, even Erica's--but who's keeping track?
He isn’t.
He’s busy arguing all this is perfectly normal.)
Sleeping in Steve’s bed is where things get a little tricky.
See, when it was more than just Robin and Eddie crashing at Casa De Harrington, they all sleep in the living room.
Steve drags out some fancy blow up mattress (an air mattress what the fuck) and changes the couches around and long story short his fucking living room is more comfortable than Eddie’s own bed has ever been.
But when it's just Eddie and Robin, they retire to Steve’s stupid huge bed, so large the damn thing takes up most of his equally massive room.
(“This isn’t weird right?” He’d asked Robin once, hanging his head over the edge of the bed while Steve did--whatever it was he was doing to his hair in the bathroom.
Robin, who was busy rifling through Steve’s drawers for a shirt to steal, stopped and looked at him, one eyebrow raised.
“Not unless you make it weird, Munson.” She’d told him, and well, that was all the permission he needed.
They slept together in tight groups, where it was easiest to defend each other in case of Upside Down fucking monster attack.
Case closed.)
Sleeping in Steve Harrington’s bed, without the buffer that was Robin Buckley, is where the lies started.
Because it was weird.
It was incredibly weird, and did guys even do this solo?
Eddie hadn’t. If one of Hellfire or the band stayed over, it was a strictly floor/bed/couch situation unless there were more than three of them, and that was within Eddie’s small ass trailer.
Sure they piled up if they had to, but it wasn't like it was with Steve. All tangled limbs and being right up in each others space, no pillow or blanket or anything as a buffer.
Hell, Eddie had woken up getting spooned or doing the spooning more than once, and no one said shit.
How Steve made it sound so genuinely normal was beyond him.
Not that Eddie argued about it.
Not the first time of the fifth or the twenty-fifth, and not even after Robin pointed out he was rooming with Harrington more than she was.
Because he just slept better, next to Steve.
(Steve apparently, felt the same.
Or must have given it kept happening.)
It wasn’t like Steve didn’t crash at Eddie’s trailer either--his parents had come right home upon hearing about the earthquake, and had been a bit more present after running into the joint forces of Jim Hopper and Joyce Byers in the hospital lobby.
Add in Wayne’s own Disapproving Stare (TM) and the town being up each other’s ass to try and keep it together, and suddenly Mr. and Mrs. Harrington were hanging out in Hawkins that much more.
(Steve seemed to think it was more to save face rather than because they actually gave a shit, which Eddie felt was obvious but he wasn’t gonna say it.
“They’re trying I think. They just--they’ve never encountered anything like this.” He’d said, a little frown line pinching his eyebrows together.
“Stevie, no one has faced anything like what we have. Your parents, on the other hand, are only dealing with what they think is the aftermath of an earthquake and plenty of people have seen those.”
Steve had sighed. Stared a little helplessly, like he knew he was making excuses but couldn’t help himself.
“I know, Eds. I know.”)
Them being home more meant Steve was at Eddie’s more--on grounds that Robin’s parents were fine with him hanging out but drew some kind of weird not--very--hippy line at him sleeping over.
Which was fine.
Great even, the Eddie and Steve had never slept better! Sucks to be Robin, who had to call up Nancy Wheeler if she wanted to share.
All this was, was trauma buddies being guy pals who were very comfortable with each other due to said fucking trauma.
Steve used to help Eddie take a piss for fucks sake, and according to literally everyone else involved in the Vecna related mess, this was their fourth go round with supernatural shit.
Chances of it all happening a fifth time seemed kinda high, even if the gate was supposedly closed and the psychotic meat puppet madman six feet underground.
Sharing was caring, and caring was not letting your new buddy you saved fight off monsters alone if they popped back up.
Plus he and Steve spent a huge amount of time together, almost as much time as Steve did with Robin.They were all in each other’s back pockets to the point that Eddie’s band was used to it, with Gareth even starting to make secret lover jokes about it all.
(The dick.)
They were just really good friends dealing with the shit life had dealt them. That was it, that was the whole ass story.
Eddie’s growing gay crisis aside.
So no. It wasn't all the time with Harrington that sent Eddie over the edge. Nor was it the bed sharing, rapidly dropping boundaries, or even the fact that Steve knew where Eddie kept his condoms (An accident Eddie wouldn't ever live down, holy shit.)
No, what sent him into an absolute, hair tearin' meltdown, was the day Steve woke up, rolled over, kissed Eddie right on the lips and then went to make breakfast.
No good morning, no how ya doin.
Steve just left Eddie there, clutching onto the sheets for dear life and mildly terrified he’d just hallucinated the entire encounter.
(Hell, maybe the whole thing was hallucinated.
Maybe he died in the Upside Down and this was some sort of sick version of the afterlife.
Eddie pinched himself, and when that wasn’t enough, bit his own knuckle. Both hurt, which was unfortunate, because death seemed preferable to dealing with life right then.)
Unfortunately for him, Steve did not run back into the room with a myriad of excuses, which meant Eddie had to experience the horrifying ordeal of getting out of bed, putting his clothes on and going into the trailer’s kitchen--because Steve hadn’t even had the decency to wreck Eddie’s life at his own house.
‘What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck--’
Heart galloping, Eddie put on his big boy pants--metaphorically and physically--before stepping out into the kitchen and confront his friend.
Who was cooking shirtless, without a care in the world.
It still took him a full thirty seconds to get his mouth to work.
“Hey Stevie? Do you want to tell me what that was about?”
"Hmm?” Steve replied. His eyes were hooded, hair mussed in a way Eddie knew only a few select people had ever seen it.
He looked half asleep, and proved it a second later when he reached twice for the one of the two mugs on the counter and missed entirely.
Eddie swung in, grabbing one and offering it out for Steve to pour coffee into, before swapping it out for the other mug once Steve was done.
Stayed in Steve’s space even as the former jock fussed with adding in milk and sugar and whatever else he was feeling, working up the courage to say something.
Anything.
“Uh, the--just now?” Eddie squeaked. He coughed to clear his voice, trying desperately to act normal.
Look normal.
Like he hadn't just been kissed by the guy he had absolute worst crush on.
Steve, bless him, didn’t tease him. Just shoved one of the mugs into Eddie’s hands and kept the other for himself.
Took a nice, slow sip, adam's apple bobbing and Eddie quickly averted his gaze, staring firmly into his coffee.
“What happened?” Steve asked a second later, sounding a touch more clear, and not at all like he was experiencing deep regret, or dodging the question, or even aware of what had happened.
Eddie had two seconds to realize that hell, maybe Steve really didn’t know, before his mouth once betrayed him.
“When you kissed me?” And motherfucker, for once, Eddie wished he would think before he fucking spoke.
(Wayne had always told him he'd come to regret it. He just hadn't thought it'd be like this!)
“Oh.” Steve said, very anticlimatically. “I didn’t realize I did that, sorry.”
Eddie's entire body twitched.
One long shudder, like it was rejecting the very words coming out of Steve's mouth.
“You didn’t,” He tried, voice dry and cracking. He realized his hands were shaking and promptly put his mug down before he dropped it. “You just--what, did that on instinct?”
“...Kinda, yeah.” Steve said and why the hell did he sound entirely unphased!?
Was this some kind of weird jock thing? Did the basketball team all wake up together and kiss each other on the mouth?! Did they think it was some sort of straight--guy haha joke, or fucking--Eddie didn’t even know what, because Eddie was too busy spiraling.
“Steve I’m gay.” He blurted out, mouth now firmly ahead of his brain.
He instantly wanted to take it back.
Grab the words with his hands, and cram it into his mouth.
Maybe Steve was only cool with it if he thought Eddie was straight.
Hell, maybe he fucking did it while sleep walking or something and Eddie was the one being weird about it, or he--fuck, really did imagine it and, and--!
“I know.” Steve told him, interrupting Eddie’s catastrophizing entirely.
“You know?” Eddie stared at him, feeling like the world had fallen out from underneath his feet. “How do you know!?”
He actually had a pretty good idea of how Steve knew, considering they were both friends with Robin, but while Robin was comfortably out to both of them, Eddie was not.
Had not in fact, even confirmed that he was queer to Robin herself, though he’d hinted at it plenty and shared more than one inside joke.
Didn’t think Robin had outed him or anything, but more that, well…
Steve was smarter than the kids made him sound, that’s for damn sure.
“Honestly dude? You’re not subtle.” Steve told him and at least he finally sounded serious.
Like this was a much needed conversation and not some weird tangent Eddie was on.
“The handkerchief, that triangle pin that you and Robin both have, the fact that you once jumped in my pool to get away from Dustin asking about you're dating life."
He rolled one hand in an etc. all gesture, before adding; “Also there was that time you and Robin got absolutely smashed on my dad’s whiskey and argued about who the hottest Rocky Horror actor was.”
Eddie’s mouth sprang open to defend himself, but absolutely nothing came out.
When had they even watched Rocky Horror together!?
“You kept insisting the guy who played Brad was hotter than the one who played Rocky, remember? I thought Robin was going to strangle you because she like, adores Susan Sarandon.” Steve continued, like they were having one of their playful little spats and not--not discussing Steve kissing him!
“You guys asked me to tie-break,” He added slowly, like he was trying to jog Eddie’s memory. “and I told you guys I thought both were hot.”
Which--oh.
Oh.
“Okay so you’re…?”
Not going to kill me is what Eddie intended to say, but Steve took it as another question entirely, and answered with a nod and a hum.
Which--okay.
Steve Harrington was bisexual, and also already thought he’d come out to Eddie.
He could roll with that.
That was not the problem, at all.
The problem was; “That doesn’t explain the kiss though?!”
Steve finally put his coffee down, huffing out exasperatedly. “I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t realize I did it, man. We share a bed a lot and I guess I wasn’t--I must have--”
And now, finally, Steve was getting embarrassed. A red flush spread across his cheeks and down his neck, vivid even on his tan skin.
He ran a hand through his hair, and Eddie knew purely from the sheer amount of time they spent together that it was a self-soothing action.
“I guess I’m sorry?”
It came out less as a question and more as an accusation-- which Steve himself seemed to hear because he immediately corrected it with a far less sassy and much more sincere; “No I am--I’m sorry.”
None of which answered why Steve had kissed him.
“You didn’t think I was Nance, did you?” Eddie asked, because apparently he just couldn't stop while he was ahead.
Maybe he should have died. It'd be better for both of them, considering he was doing about as good as kicking Steve while he was down.
Steve, the guy who had saved Eddie's life and was now one of his best friends and here Eddie was, dragging this out of him like a moron.
“No.” Steve said immediately. Reflexively, almost, firm and sure. “I am very aware you’re not Nancy.”
‘Let it go Eddie. Don’t make it weird Eddie. Just laugh it off and say okay--’
“Then who did you think it was? I mean you said it was instincts and like, I'm not stupid. I know I can be confused for Nance in the low light, it's happened before but--"
Stupid, stupid, stupid!
“I didn’t think. I knew it was you." Steve interrupted. "I knew I was kissing you, Eddie."
Oh god, just kill him now.
Hell he'd even take a Vecna death! With all the gross gore and the shitty villain monologue!
"This morning I was tired, and I was sleepy, and I apparently skipped the part in my head were I asked you out and we were dating.” Steve deadpanned at him.
Eddie gaped, mind shattered and rapidly reforming.
It was like the universe was recreating itself, only this time all the stars had aligned and his wish had come true and some Disney director had taken control of his life--
“But I get it if I’m not your type." Steve was saying, because Steve was perfect.
And Kind.
And wanted to date Eddie.
"I’m sorry if I made things uncomf-mmphhh!”
‘Mmmph’ because Eddie had flung himself at Steve, face first, the second "I asked you out and we were dating" had finished processing.
(Which was alarming fast, considering he'd been struggling all morning.)
‘D--ff--ing?”
Steve laughed in his mouth as Eddie tried to talk while kissing, pulling away slightly and holding his chest back with a hand when Eddie tried to chase him anyway.
“Yes, dating. As in, would you, Eddie Munson, like to go on a date with me, Steve Harrington?”
“Yes.” Eddie’s mouth said.
At least this time it and his brain were on the same wavelength.
“Yes I very much would.” He put some weight into his lean, making it harder for Steve to hold him back. “I think you can tell, by the way I'm trying to kiss you. Which you are not doing."
He pouted, and refused to be embarrassed about his behavior.
Steve laughed, and he might have said something like “God you changed up fast” except he had given in and let Eddie close again, and his words were now being swallowed down.
Eddie's life was weird alright, and now it was weird even by his own standards, but he wouldn't have it any other way.
#this is VERY unedited#steddie#ANOTHER STEDDIE#IM ON A ROLL#this is a warmup that got out of hand#oneshot#ANOTHER ONESHOT#damn Im killin it#*knocks frantically on wood*#now if only I could kill ANY OF THE FOUR FICS IM WORKING ON#steven harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#look it was early#Steve had a nice dream#forgot he wasnt dating eddie IRL it happens lol#“Im gay” “I know” trope lol#Eddie Munsons Very Weird Life#0o0 fanfics#stranger things#gareth emerson
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sometimes we just need someone to pay enough attention.
for the longest time i had been trying to read The Lord of The Rings. everyone had sung the praises for it, over and over. i'd seen clips of the movie and it seemed like it could be fun, but actually reading it was fucking horrible.
my parents had the omnibus - all the books squished into one big tome - and in the 4th grade i started sort of an annual tradition: i would start trying to read TLR and get frustrated after about a month and put it back down. at first i figured i was just too young for it, and that it would eventually make sense.
but every time i came back to it, i would find myself having the exact same experience: it was confusing, weird, and dry as a fucking bone. i couldn't figure it out. how had everyone else on earth read this book and enjoyed it? how had they made movies out of this thing? it was, like, barely coherent. i would see it on "classics" list and on every fantasy/sci-fi list and everyone said i should read it; but i figured that it was like my opinion of great expectations - just because it's a classic doesn't mean i'm going to like experiencing it.
at 20, i began the process of forcing myself through it. if i had to treat the experience like a self-inflicted textbook, i would - but i was going to read it.
my mom came across me taking notes at our kitchen table. i was on the last few pages of the first book in the omnibus, and i was dreading moving on to the next. she smiled down at me. only you would take notes on creative writing. then she sat down and her brow wrinkled. wait. why are you taking notes on this?
i said the thing i always said - it's boring, and i forget what's happening in it because it's so weird, and dense. and strange.
she nodded a little, and started to stand up. and then sat back down and said - wait, will you show me the book?
i was happy to hand it over, annoyed with the fact i'd barely made a dent in the monster of a thing. she pulled it to herself, pushing her glasses up so she could read the tiny writing. for a moment, she was silent, and then she let out a cackle. she wouldn't stop laughing. oh my god. i cannot wait to tell your father.
i was immediately defensive. okay, maybe i'm stupid but i've been trying to read this since the 4th grade and -
she shook her head. raquel, this is the Silmarillion. you've been reading the Silmarillion, not the lord of the rings.
anyway, it turns out that the hobbit and lord of the rings series are all super good and i understand why they're recommended reading. but good lord (of the rings), i wish somebody had just asked - wait. this kind of thing is right up your alley. you love fantasy. it sounds like something might be wrong. why do you think it's so boring?
#thanks for reminding me this happened#writeblr#warm up#i don't think this story translates well to the page#IRONIC!!!! :)#but yeah man i read the Silmarillion before i read the hobbit#the omnibus didn't explain what it was and i figured - you start at the beginning and then you read from the beginning#that's how books work#how was i supposed to know#EDIT IN THE TAGS: hi i think i worded this in a confusing way#the omnibus had ALL the stories in it - the silm#the hobbit#and all of LOTR#they just put the silm in the front so i thought logically it was the first book#that's how an omnibus usually works after all - the first book in the series is the first book in the tome#to be fair i GUESS the silm takes place “before” the hobbit????
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Heavenly Creatures
Pairing: Altar Boy! Leon Kennedy x Catholic School Girl! Reader
Summary: Growing up in a conservative, Catholic community, you and Leon were kept apart as kids for your own good. However, a fateful encounter at church many years later causes you to question those boundaries.
Content & Warnings: 18+ Smut, porn with plot, unprotected p in v, oral (m & f receiving), rimming (f receiving), semi-public sex (church), Catholicism, religious imagery & symbolism, temptation, guilt, shaming, name-calling, growing up, smoking, swearing, romance, fluff, secret relationship.
Authors' Note: Leon and Reader are in senior high and 18 when smut happens. No guarantee that you won’t burn in hell after reading this 🔥😂
Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for being my sounding board + shadesoflsk & Cameron for your helpful feedback.
AO3 Link
Snake. Devil. Satan’s spawn.
Those were the names you had grown accustomed to as a child. You didn’t know why you were called them, instead of the one your parents had given you. You were too little to understand. All you knew was that you were made to feel different. Maybe you were really an anomaly from the rest after all.
Instead of being quiet and shy, you were loud and boisterous. It was natural for you, seeing as you were going through your tomboy phase, which was the exact reason your parents had stuck to when they received complaints about your behavior. They laughed it off, while others reigned their daughters in, forcing them into perfect Sunday dresses, braided hair adorned with pastel ribbons and clean, black Mary Jane shoes. Good enough to fit into a pretty gift box with wrapping paper. But you would tear it all down, before anyone could lay a finger on you.
Growing up in a place where other children were told to shun you was difficult at first. But then, you learnt to play by yourself and relish in the power of make believe. You climbed trees, rolled in the mud and ran through the forest fending off imaginary monsters. Sometimes, when you bumped into other groups of boys who threw stones and made fun of you, you fought back, further earning the title of crazy witch! Who needed these idiots anyway? You were your own best company.
One day, you sat in your disheveled, cream cotton dress, swinging your legs from a tree in your front lawn as usual. It overlooked the suburban neighborhood street, giving you a bird’s eye view of your surroundings. You noticed a family of three strolling along the sidewalk, though the couple gave you a disapproving look as they walked past, and whispered to their little, adolescent boy. They thought they were being so discreet, but you could hear every single word they were saying.
“Don’t pay attention to her. She’s bad news.”
Regardless of this remark, the boy gave in to his curiosity and as he peered up, you held his wide-eyed gaze. His irises were azure in color, glowing as it caught the early dusk light from different angles, shifting across a stunning spectrum of bluish, iridescent hues. You were captivated by them, and as you continued staring, his cheeks turned rosy red, though it seemed like he could not break away from you either. That moment was abruptly cut short, as his father smacked the back of his head, chiding his son for disobeying him.
“Come along now, Leon.” The older man wrapped an arm around the boy’s shoulders, turning him away from your direction.
Leon. So, that was his name. As you watched them turn the corner at the end of the street and head off, you wondered if and when you’d see him again.
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Leon had heard the stories passed around about you. His parents had often commented about your family as being one of those ‘weird, hippy types’. Frankly, this didn’t scare him, but rather, it fascinated him. They made you appear like something he had read in a book about myths and legends, and he wanted to see if it was real.
The next time he went out to play in the field, he walked by your place again on purpose, even though it would have been the longer route. As he had predicted, you were up in the tree again, lounging across its branches with your eyes closed, like a slithery snake basking in the sun. Your dress was stained with grass and dirt, and your feet were soiled and filthy. Twigs poked out haphazardly from your knotted, messy hair.
You looked like a creature of sorts, alright, he thought.
He inched towards the base of the tree trunk gingerly, trying not to stir the sleeping beast. But as he got closer, he accidentally stepped into a pile of dead leaves, which crunched underfoot.
You roused from your slumber then, rubbing your eyes as you stretched your arms out with a lazy yawn. He flinched when you looked downwards at him, as if you might strike out, but you just smiled and said, “Hi.”
He was confused then. From the descriptions of you, he had expected you to breathe fire and gnash your teeth at him fiercely, but you were just a normal girl. He gave you a puzzled look, nodding as he greeted you with a stutter, “Hi… I-I’m, uh, Leon.”
“I know.” You grinned.
“You do?” He looked astounded, as if you’d conducted some dark ritual to find out.
You picked up on this and teased him, wiggling your fingers as you mouthed, “Magic…”
He laughed, relaxing his stiff shoulders and asking you for your name. He’d only known you until now as that girl, or one of those nicknames people gave you out of spite.
You introduced yourself and offered him a half-eaten apple you had munched on before napping on the tree. He hesitated at first, regarding it as if it were a forbidden fruit, but eventually he reached out for it. Gratefully, he bit in, savoring the flavorful burst of its juicy flesh.
“Do you go to church?” He asked suddenly, out of the blue.
Shielding your eyes from the afternoon sun with your hand, you squinted at him. “Yeah, why?”
“Oh.” He paused, considering his next words, though he blurted out with unfiltered honesty, “Well, my dad said that demons can’t enter hallowed ground.”
“I’m not a demon,” you huffed indignantly.
“No, you aren’t,” he agreed, waving his hands in the air apologetically, trying to salvage the situation. “I think you’re nice, actually.” His face was warm and pink again.
“I think you’re nice too.”
And it continued on like this. Some days, he’d pop over to visit and speak with you from below the tree, when he was sure no one was watching. Until a day came where he wasn’t as careful, and was spotted by a concerned neighbor, who ratted him out to his parents.
You were sad that he wasn’t allowed to see you again, but you’d grown used to being alone for most of your childhood, so you tried to put it behind you and move on, unaware that he’d often look out for you at each week’s Sunday Mass.
━━━━━━━━━━━
A number of years passed, and you filled out into your own body. You were in your senior year of an all-girls Catholic high school, and had recently turned 18. Reaching womanhood also meant that you became acutely aware of the changes in the way society treated you now, as compared to the opposite sex. Heads turned as you stalked around with one of the more unruly cliques in your school. Instead of being name-called after otherworldly creatures, you were reduced to bitch, slut, or whore.
People hated what they couldn’t understand or control. You’d been giving the nuns a hard time by asking controversial questions about the biblical text you were meant to study and recite blindly. Detention was nothing new to you and your friends, whom you’d been caught smoking cigarettes together with on school grounds. You were a rebel at heart, and the rest of the law-abiding community wanted to crush that and make you conform.
Leon, on the other hand, had been going to the all-boys school next door, which shared a brother school relationship with yours. He was in the same year and age as you, though being a man meant he had the privilege of getting away with certain things you couldn’t. Even there, your name wasn’t safe from being circulated around the rumor mill. You were the subject of boys’ locker room talk. They associated you with the ‘bad girl’ crowd, highlighting your love for reading banned books and boasting about supposed sexual escapades with you.
“She’ll do favors,” they said, making vulgar gestures by moving their fist back and forth in front of their mouth, while poking their tongue against their cheek.
Leon slammed his locker door shut and stormed off. It made him uncomfortable that they gossiped about you that way, but he was even more ashamed of the fact that he made no effort to stand up for you. He hardly knew you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that what they were doing was finding a scapegoat to blame. That, unfortunately, time and time again, happened to be you.
Most of the students there were sexually active anyway, but no one had complained about them. As long as one kept things on the down-low and upheld a certain moralistic façade, they were considered as ‘innocent’, ‘pure’, or ‘normal’ even. For one, he was pretty sure that his father was having an affair with the church choir mistress, but that seemed to go overlooked.
Everyone’s such hypocrites, he pondered, frowning in distaste. Including himself. Although he liked to think that he was brave and courageous, in actuality, he was afraid of rocking the boat. Fitting in was more important, just as his parents had taught him from a young age. It was the side of him that he hated the most, but could not get rid of.
Gathering his belongings, he left school and hurried off. He’d been requested last-minute to serve at Mass that evening, as one of the other altar boys had fallen ill. At church, he exchanged his school uniform for the standard black cassock and white surplice, before starting with the Introductory Rites.
You, on the other hand, had been singled out along with a bunch of other troublesome girls to attend Evening Mass with the Mother Superior that day. It was just your luck that you had to devote an hour of your time to a set of outdated rituals and prayers, with the aim of reflecting upon your sins. The most frustrating part of this exercise was that all of you were placed in the front row pews, so there was no chance of daydreaming or dozing off in front of the priest. You’d never been much of a believer, but sometimes you did speculate if God was watching your every move from above.
As you stood up for the entrance procession, which signaled the start of Mass, a familiar mop of dirty blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes passed by. You’d recognize that anywhere, but it was a wonder how you hadn’t realized that he was serving as an altar boy all this while. Maybe your Mass timings hadn’t aligned? Or maybe you just never paid much attention in church. You’d only seen him here and there when he attended Mass with his family as part of the congregation, but you ignored him back then, because you didn’t want to remember the feeling of losing the closest thing you had to a friend in your pre-teen days.
When Leon turned around to face the congregation for the greeting, he gulped as he saw you, standing almost directly in front of him as both of you made the Sign of the Cross. Speak of the devil, he muttered internally, before chastising himself for unintentionally insulting you and shook that thought away.
You gave him a coy smile as he scampered off to where he was meant to be stationed. For the first time in a while, you took the chance to admire his chiseled features and how much he had grown. He had always been attractive, but he was no longer the little boy you used to know, and instead now a fine, young man, in an even finer religious attire. Puberty did him good, you mused.
All at once, a mischievous plan flashed across your mind as you plotted how to win his attention. It would be an entertaining way to pass the time in this mundane institution. Viewing the school uniform as yet another means for the authorities to curb people’s freedom and creative expression, you had a habit of violating the dress code by making minor adjustments to it. Whether it was shortening the hem of your skirt or wearing below the ankle socks, you went for it. And today was no exception.
You waited until it was time to be seated before attempting to catch his gaze. Within a few minutes, he sneaked a peek your way and you stifled a laugh. Bingo. As you continued looking straight at him, you stretched your legs out cautiously, so as not to alert the Mother Superior, who sat beside you, to your antics. His eyes widened and flickered, as you showed off their length, rotating your ankles in small circles languidly. The other altar boys started to take note and whispered in hushed tones amongst themselves. But you only had eyes for Leon, scrutinizing him like a hawk, as you bared your teeth with a sly grin plastered across your face.
It was only a matter of time before the Mother Superior rapped you on the legs with a thin, wooden cane she carried around for doling out such punishments. The other girls in your row giggled as you returned your legs to a respectable position, disregarding the smarting pain that had accompanied the blow.
It was worth it, you reasoned, spotting Leon’s lopsided smile, as he turned away to hide his blush.
This soon carried on like an unspoken game between you and Leon. You’d attend Mass whenever he was serving as an altar boy, and he’d look out for you, exchanging glances like a secret code shared between the two of you. A sense of thrill arose within him each time, as to what you’d try next. If only he knew what you were capable of.
At some point, you grew bolder. During the Holy Communion, where Leon had been helping the priest to hold the patina under the chins of those who received the Sacred host, you made sure once again to make eye contact with him the whole way through. Your mouth was slightly agape, as you extended your tongue, clasping your hands together in a pious prayer position. When the priest placed the host in your mouth, you swallowed it suggestively, licking your upper lip for a finishing touch. Leon nearly stumbled over backwards as his face turned bright red like a tomato. The last thing he heard was your silvery laughter, and you returned to your seat as if nothing had happened. You had ensnared him now.
When Mass ended, you slipped him a note, asking him to meet you at the confessional when everyone else had been ushered out. You knelt in the penitent compartment, waiting for him to arrive, confident that he would show up. A few minutes later, you heard someone enter the booth where the priest usually sat.
“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned,” you began. Through the latticed screen, you could just about make out Leon’s face as he chuckled.
“What are you playing at?”
“You tell me,” you challenged, testing the waters. “I haven’t received any complaints.”
“Well, I have a question,” he mentioned quietly. “Do you still remember when we hung out back then? At the tree.”
There was pang in your heart, as you recalled your childhood memories. “Of course, you were the only one who bothered to speak to me.”
You pursed your lips before taking the plunge. “I really appreciated that.”
There was a momentary pause, as he took your words in. “I wish they didn’t separate us.”
“It isn’t too late to start over.” It was humiliating how eager you sounded. No matter how much you tried to repress it, you yearned to rekindle that connection you had with him once.
“Listen, I like you,” he admitted, sighing heavily. “But, I can’t go public with this. My parents-”
“Who says it has to be public?” You retorted defensively.
His heartfelt confession emboldened you, yet a part of you felt dejected that this was the best option he could offer. However, you didn’t want to concede without giving it a shot.
He made a noise which sounded like he was in disbelief. “You mean-”
“Shall I come over and show you?” You interrupted, already getting up before he could answer.
“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “I-I’d like that, I guess.”
Exiting your compartment, you stepped out and swiftly went over to where he was, closing the door behind you. It was crammed and stuffy in this tiny box with two people, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. Giving him a once-over, it struck you that he was still in his altar boy attire and perhaps what you were about to do was wrong on so many levels, but you brushed those thoughts aside.
“Um-”
Before he could speak any further, you ran your hands up along his chest and planted your lips onto his, soft and pillowy in texture. He let out a low moan, easing into your embrace as he kissed back, holding onto the back of your head for better leverage. His tongue grazed across your lips and you parted them in response, allowing it to slip inside as you tasted each other. Grabbing the collar of his cassock, you pressed your bodies together heatedly. You sucked on his tongue, eliciting another moan from his throat, as you shuffled him around, pushing his back against the wooden wall with a loud thud. Both of you had lost yourselves in a whirlwind of kisses, oblivious to the outside world and the ruckus you were making.
However, it was hard to ignore the hymn that was being sung when the next Mass started. Leon froze, before pulling away hastily. His mouth was red and swollen, and a pearly string of saliva connected it with yours.
“Shit, we lost track of time,” he panted.
If you didn’t want to be seen, you’d need to remain where you were until the Mass ended. In other words, both of you were trapped here for at least another hour.
Not being one to let such matters ruin the vibe, you responded, “That’s not a problem for me.” Trailing a lone finger down Leon’s body seductively, you let it come to rest above the growing bulge in his cassock.
“Are you serious?” He breathed, as you cupped your hand around it, palming him through his clothes.
“You got a better idea?” You murmured in his ear, squeezing his erection a little as you continued rubbing against it.
“Don’t get me wrong, it feels amazing.” His voice was strained as he spoke. “But, it’s just…”
“Catholic guilt?” You teased.
“Yeah, probably.” He nodded sheepishly.
“Well, maybe if we get you out of this thing.” You gestured to his attire. “You might relax into it more.”
“Makes sense,” he agreed, tugging the surplice over his head and discarding it to the ground. “Though it never really goes away, does it?”
You shrugged, shaking your head. “I still get it, but it’s less of an issue now.” It made you follow up with a question of your own. “Does that mean I’m a bad person?”
His eyes crinkled as he grinned. “You're doing it again.”
“Hm?”
“Guilt,” he indicated. “But to answer your question, no, I don’t think you’re a bad person.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway.” You tried to deflect the topic, knowing the rumors that people spread about you. Leon had probably heard it all. “At least there’s still hope for you.”
“Thanks?”
“Don’t thank me yet.” You winked, removing the sash from his cassock as he unbuttoned the rest of it, revealing a plain white shirt and a pair of shorts underneath.
He snickered as you clucked your tongue at the sight. “What did you expect me to do? Go Commando?”
“Would’ve been hot,” you pointed out.
Leon had always been perceptive. From your interactions, he began to suspect that sometimes you relied on lighthearted banter as a way to mask your nervousness and other underlying emotions.
Nestling his fingers under your chin, he turned you towards him. “You sure about this?”
“Mm hm.” It was sweet of him to check in. Most guys never offered you the same courtesy. “Been thinking about it since Communion,” you added brazenly.
He snorted as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. Working your way down, you kissed his clothed body, pulling the waistband of his underwear and shorts to his ankles. Kneeling before him, you reached for his cock, smearing beads of his precum carelessly along his velvety skin, while you pumped his hot shaft slowly.
He inhaled sharply, snapping his eyes shut, as he tilted his head back in pleasure. In the background, you could hear the priest’s sermon droning on.
With a smug smile, you warned, “Do me a favor and try to keep it down, will you?”
Before he had a chance to react, you filled your mouth with his cock, sliding all the way down its hardened length.
“Jesus,” he groaned.
Instantly, you released it with a pop and tutted in mock disappointment, “Taking the Lord’s name in vain?”
“We’re so going to hell for this,” he laughed faintly, tangling his hands in your hair.
“Ah-” He gasped again, as you held onto the base of his cock, lifting it to flatten your tongue on its underside. Slathering it with saliva, you took his balls into your wet mouth, one at a time, sucking on them delectably. “Fuck!”
“Don’t you ever shut up?” You joked.
“Not if you keep doing what you’re doing, angel.”
Angel. That was a new one. You’d never been called that before, but you liked the sound of it.
Wrapping your lips around his cock, you started a steady rhythm, bobbing your head up and down his shaft. Each time you came up, you flicked your tongue at the tip, licking it as you stared up at him. His eyes flew open, gazing at you with lust and arousal while you sucked him off more vigorously.
Sliding his cock in deeper, you allowed it to hit the back of your throat, causing you to make a guttural noise. Clenching his fist, he bit down hard on his knuckles to stop himself from crying out. If this was hell, he’d stay right here with you. He couldn’t think straight anymore, as he bucked his hips forward in response.
Grabbing his ass, your fingernails left crescent shaped indents on his skin, as you let him fuck your mouth to chase his high. Tears lined your eyelashes and sweat poured down your brow. It had gotten incredibly hot and humid in this enclosed space. But his muted moans only served to turn you on even more. You wondered how perverse and trashy you looked in this position, though Leon could only mumble the opposite in his feverish state.
Soon, he tensed and quivered while hissing through gritted teeth, “God, I’m gonna cum.”
Lady Luck appeared to be on your side, as the congregation were in the middle of singing another hymn, which inadvertently muffled whatever sounds were coming from the confessional. He struggled to hold in his groans as you felt a thick, salty load of his cum wash up against your throat. You choked a bit before swallowing it whole.
Collapsing backwards, you leaned against the cool surface of the seat behind you, wiping the edges of your mouth. Tucking his spent dick back under his clothes, he sank down beside you, kissing you gently and tasting himself on your lips.
“You ok?” He brushed his thumb along your cheek.
You nodded silently and smiled, contemplating if there would be a future to what you had with him now.
“I ruined you,” he jested, showering you with kisses along your jawline.
“As if.” You rolled your eyes, but deep down, you knew it was the truth.
And, just like he had read your mind, he uttered the magic words, “So, when will I see you again?”
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Since the encounter at the confessional, you continued your clandestine meetings with Leon, just like back in the old days, except both of you were now wiser in covering your tracks. In public, you pretended not to know each other, yet shared furtive, longing glances when you were in the same vicinity. Sometimes, he would make an excuse to brush past you, his touch ghosting across the curve of your spine, your shoulders, the back of your hand to the tip of your pinkie finger. Away from prying eyes, you hooked up passionately, damning each other further to hell. How many levels were there again? You’d lost count.
You enjoyed the moments spent with him. The aftercare and cuddling. The long talks into the night. You understood each other somehow, it wasn’t like this with other people. So, if the Day of Judgment arrived, why would God not sympathize with you both?
Despite that, neither of you had put a label on where you stood with each other. How did this secret relationship work? If you were found out, would he ditch you like before? Would you be thrown under the bus, so that he could be purified again? It wasn’t long until insecurity reared its ugly head, gnawing at you from within.
Leon sensed something was off as you lay in his arms, naked while he spooned you in the back seat of his car, parked along a desolate dirt path near the forest. You had that pensive look on your face, like you were in a world of your own, one where he couldn’t enter.
Pulling you close to him, he kissed the top of your shoulder, coaxing you out of your reverie. “Wanna talk about it?”
You hummed noncommittally. After a long pause, you asked, “Are you embarrassed by me?”
He was caught off-guard by the question and his breathing stilled. “No,” he argued. “Why would you think that?”
“I’m just tired of hiding,” you sighed. “It’s like I’m making you do something bad.”
There was a brief ache in his chest, as guilt swelled up like a wave. Coward, an inner voice spat.
Carding his fingers through your hair, he pressed his lips against the temple of your head. “You make me feel like the best version of myself.”
“Hm.” You pinched your lips together, wanting to believe him, but you weren’t convinced.
He observed this, but decided not to press the issue any further, knowing that you needed action, not words.
She’ll be your downfall. A surly voice piped up within him, like fire and brimstone. He shook it off, ignoring the moral tug-of-war that had occurred once he made that statement, as he vowed to prove himself to you in the coming days.
━━━━━━━━━━━
The next time you’d agreed to meet was in church, after the very last Mass of the day. He was serving as an altar boy again, and you were intrigued as to whether he had planned to reenact the entire confessional scene or switch it up with something new, like making you go through the Stations of the Cross while fucking you. You giggled at the idea, only to be shushed by a fellow parishioner, whom you had disturbed in meditative prayer.
When Mass ended and everyone except yourself had left the nave, you waited patiently for him in the pews. After a while, you felt a tap on your shoulder and turned around to face Leon, who had changed into his casual clothes. As you got to your feet, he cupped the sides of your face in his hands, closing the distance, and bringing your lips to meet his in a fervent kiss. You were slightly taken aback by his initiation, since he was usually the shyer one out of the two of you.
Claiming your hand in his, he led you to the front, where the altar stood before the austere crucifix that hung from the wall. He smirked, noticing the look of shock and incredulity on your face, as it gradually began to dawn on you what he had in mind. However, he was anxious too, you could tell from the way his hand was trembling. He was sealing his fate, and you were both going down together. Nothing could bring you back after this ultimate act of blasphemy.
At the foot of the altar, he caressed his lips against yours. “I guess God is our witness now.”
Leaning in, you found yourselves consumed in a lip lock, which deepened with each passing second as you helped each other out of your clothes, kicking them off unceremoniously to the side. He spun you around, bending you forward against the smooth, marble top of the altar. The cold surface caused your nipples to harden and goosebumps to form on your skin. You shivered as he spread your legs wider apart and knelt down, holding your thighs as he licked a firm stripe along your silken folds.
As he continued to lap at the sensitive flesh, he brought a hand towards your clit, stroking it softly with his middle finger. You jerked from the sensation, whimpering as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into your heat and suckling it with his lips. There was a slight pressure as you felt one of his fingers sliding into your pussy, already soaked with arousal. At the same time, his tongue trailed up towards your rim, teasing it with long, flat licks.
“Oh my god!” You gasped, gripping the edge of the altar, as an electrifying tingle coursed through your veins.
There was a playful smack on your ass. “Forgotten the Third Commandment already?” Leon scolded.
“Huh?”
“Taking the Lord’s name in vain,” he mimicked your tone from when you had teased him at the confessional.
“Ugh,” you whined. “I’m sure this is the least of our concerns.”
You felt his hot breath against your asshole before he dipped his tongue in lightly. Simultaneously, he pumped your pussy, pushing in another finger and stretching you out, before his tongue went back to circling around your rim, inciting a string of moans from your mouth.
“Feeling good?”
“Mm, yes,” you replied hoarsely. “But when are you going to fuck me?”
He coughed out a laugh at your bluntness, before imparting a piece of unsolicited advice. “Patience is a virtue.”
You groaned at his quip. “Really, Leon? Are you-”
He interrupted rudely, pressing his hand on your back as he entered you, burying his cock deep into your cunt. You nearly screamed in ecstasy as he pounded his hips against your ass repeatedly, already setting a brutal pace from the beginning. Maybe you should’ve been careful of what you wished for.
“What was that again?” He taunted.
You growled, clenching your jaw as you felt his dick dragging against your sensitive walls. The lewd sound of skin slapping against skin echoed across the space. Your mind fogged up in an insatiable haze as you pushed back rhythmically against his thrusting, allowing him to penetrate you further, and taking pleasure in how his head brushed against your cervix with each stroke.
“So close,” you rasped, your core tightening as if it was about to burst.
At this, he pulled away briefly, flipping you over as he lifted you onto the altar top. He had a bruising grip around your thighs, which you wrapped around his waist instinctively, interlocking your ankles behind his back to draw him closer. Bewitched, he took a moment to drink in the divine sight of your flushed, moist body, supple and wanting in his arms, before kissing you sloppily on the mouth. Pressing his forehead against yours, he asserted, “You don’t know what you do to me, angel.”
With that, he rutted into you relentlessly, your breasts bouncing as you clung to the back of his neck, crying out in rapture. When you finally snapped, a glimmer from the gold cross necklace he wore daily flashed before your eyes. You looped your index finger around it, tugging at it as you peered up at the bleeding face of Christ looking down at you ominously from the crucifix. The last remains of the day’s light filtered through the stained glass behind him, casting a kaleidoscope of mottled colors across your bodies, the altar and the stone floor, like a disease.
You realized you had tempted Leon beyond salvation. But in spite of it, he had followed you willingly. This was the proof he had wanted to show you. You were the angel he would desecrate everything for. He’d cut your wings off so you’d be his and stay.
His cock throbbed with desire as he rode you through your orgasm. As he neared the edge, he pulled out, finishing himself off. Nuzzling his face into your neck, he murmured a mixture of curses and professions against your skin, while spurting hot white cum over the mound of your pussy. Holding onto the marbled structure for support, he bent over you, placing tender kisses on your eyes and your lips.
It seemed as if he had turned his back on God and worshiped you now. But instead of a guilty conscience, you felt nothing but love. Silently, both of you cleaned up and got dressed. He delicately reattached the butterfly clip that had come loose in your hair, while you wiped away the lipstick that had smudged onto his face. There would be no signs of what had transpired, except he had another surprise lined up for you.
Upon exiting the church doors, Leon took your hand, lacing his fingers through yours, as you walked out onto the street together. You were his - he’d show you off to the whole damn world without shame.
#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy fluff#religious au#church au#resident evil#porcelainscribbles
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Ellie wasn't born a Halfa
So! Jason just found something weird. Or rather. Someone.
A little girl, no more than 6 or 7, crying behind a dumpster in an alleyway. Now, as unfortunate as it is, this isn't that strange a sight in Gotham. Kids are always running away from home, getting lost, being left homeless after a mugging gone wrong, but this time was different.
Because the kid was glowing.
When he found her hiding behind the Dumpster, a medical gown being the only thing she had to protect herself from thr frigid Gotham Winter, he didn't hesitate to give her his Jacket and take her to his nearest safe house.
(Actually it took a little while to convince her to accept the Jacket, and even longer to get her to agree to being taken to his safe house, but they got there in the end.)
When he had finally gotten her set up in a side room of the Warehouse, with the most comfortable bed and thickest Blankets he could find, he tried asking what had happened.
"Daddy lied." She said. "He said he loved me, but then he made another kid and said he didn't care about me."
And, once again, it was unfortunately not that uncommon to see runaway kids from neglectful homes, but the way she said it raised some flags in his head.
"...and, how did you end up in Gotham?"
"I ran. He said I was a spare, and that scared me."
Well, that was even more horrible than he had anticipated. What kind of monster tells their kid that they're a spare?!
"And, I'm sorry if this is a touchy subject but why are you glowing?"
She just buried her face in the Blankets and shook her head.
"Alright then, that's fine. You can tell me when you're ready, or even not tell me at all, I'll accept either or".
For the next few weeks, Jason juggled running his newly created criminal empire and raking care of the kid. He still hadn't gotten a name out of her, but she said to call her "Dp" instead. 'It's the best I'm gonna get', he thought.
It was only after a few more weeks, right before he was about to begin his Plan of confronting Bruce about the Joker still being alive, that she approached him and agreed to tell him everything. He was actually really glad that she finally seemed to trust him enough to tell him.
"Okay Dp, you can start wherever you want."
"...well, I guess I should start with my name..." She started, "...or rather, my lack of one..."
"What?" Asked Jason in a soft voice.
"I, I don't have a name." She explained, "Daddy never gave me one. He just called me DP-2."
"...what do you mean by two?" Asked Jason.
"It-It's my Experiment Number." She said, stuttering a little, "I'm not a normal person, I'm a Clone. I was made to be daddy's perfect child, but I was just the test run. He said that I wasn't needed after he made DP-3, and that all I was good for was spare parts."
Jason felt his throat dry up. Dp was a Clone? Of who? Who made her? What right did that guy have to reject her?! Who in their right mind would make a Clone and then reject the Clone?! How dare he!
The Pits perked up
He felt the Pits rising a little, but managed to push them down. Dp needed support, not the Pits.
"It's Okay kid." He said, holding her had reassuringly. "It's perfectly okay to be different. I accept you as you are, and I'm sure as hell not gonna abandon you that easily. Or, ever really. You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not."
She giggled, and hugged him. A thoughtful look crossed her face, and she pulled away.
"There is one other thing...you know how I glow sometimes?" She asked.
The Pits felt a sense of dread
Jason felt like he wasn't going to like this. "Yeah?"
"Well, when I said I was meant to be a Clone, I never mentioned who of." She explained slowly. "He's a kid named Danny, and when he was 14, he had an accident where he died and came back as a Half Undead."
No...
Jason really wasn't liking where this was going.
"When Da-Vlad tried to make me, he realized that those powers couldn't be cloned..." She paused here, seemingly gathering the courage to continue. "...they needed to be added afterwards."
NO.
He didn't. He had better not have, for his own Fucking Sake, he had better not have done what Jason thinks he did.
"So one day, he took he down to the Lab, and he put me in a big machine." He voice broke a little. "He locked me in there, and then I think...that I died..."
...
For once, Jason felt completely in tune with the Pits. He was going to Kill that guy.
...
Sorry if this feels a little rushed, I kept going back to add or change parts of it.
Basically, Vlad realized that you can't Clone a Halfa. So, he made a workaround. He just stuck his first Viable Clone into a Portal, and let the machine Kill her. When he realized that it worked, he knew he had no use for Ellie anymore aside from spare parts.
And he told her as much, Vlad is a fucking asshole.
Ellie, of course, got scared and ran away. She ended up in Gotham, and was adopted by Jason right at the start of his Criminal Career.
When Jason finally hears about the rest of his kids' Backstory, he decides that Batman can wait his turn. He needs to go Kill that Vlad Bastard.
#Dpxdc#Dp x dc#Dcxdp#Dc x dp#Danny Phantom#Dc#Dcu#Dani Phantom#Danielle Phantom#Ellie Phantom#Ellie is younger#Vlad decided to try his experiment the moment she was old enough to feasibly survive#The Pits are not seperate from Jason#They are actually his Ghost Half (aka his emotional half) shining through#Jason is a Halfa#He doesn't know that though#After they finish their conversation Jason asks Dp if she wants a name#She says yes and eventually he calls her Stella#Or Ellie for short#Cause she is his little starlight#Danny is unaware that Ellie exists#I wonder what happened with him#Maybe he is living his life back in Amity?#Maybe he is on the run because the “real danny” showed up with Vlad claiming that he had been replaced by an Imposter Ghost#And his Parents instantly believed him because Vlad is claiming that he has been no contact for so long trying to save “the real danny”#Maybe Jason finds a second glowing kid hiding behind a dumpster?#And maybe he realizes that this is his daughter's older brother?#Is that what happens?#Well maybe it is#But that's between Me and my crippling inability to finish my Part 2's
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