Don't Deny The Animal

Hi! It would be great to see Buggy and Shanks babies (Buggy who succumbed to Shanks' charm and a bottle of rum 😈)

The aftermath of Shank's charm and a bottle of rum:

(With female Buggy. And whatever Croc has got going on.)

We can argue whether Crocodile's parenting track record is indeed stellar.

Little creature:

Delicious

👌

─ 𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗩𝗘 𝗥𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗫 𝗔𝗦𝗜𝗔𝗡!𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 — in which you and steve have a secret pornhub channel. 

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. pornography. all the smut; unprotected sex, size kink, cum kink, dirty talk, praise kink, little bit of degradation, exhibitionism.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

YOU WERE PRACTICALLY BUZZING with excitement and nervousness as you sat patiently on your and Steve’s shared bed. 

Clad in only his crisp button up shirt, you watched him expertly arrange your film setup. The two of you had been planning this for months. It all started off as a fantasy. A kink that the two of you shared but knew you could not act on due to the circumstances of your jobs as Avengers. You had a standard to uphold and enemies lurking in every corner looking for the smallest speck of dirt on you to use as leverage. A sex tape wouldn’t exactly help your cause. 

But one night, you and Steve revisited the topic and came up with a game plan. 

Steve took one of Tony’s cameras. The billionaire techy wouldn’t notice one of his many possessions missing. Plus, its hard drive was impenetrable. There was no possible way anyone was going to get into it besides you two. Steve also managed to get a custom built Stark computer. Tony was thrilled his longtime friend was finally integrating himself into modern technology outside of work. When Steve asked him for brand recommendations, the Stark heir scoffed and without another word, began building the next piece of your plan. Just like everything Stark owned and made, your computer was the best of the best in terms of security. The Avengers’ wi-fi wasn’t exactly hackable either.

Once the logistics were worked out, you and Steve came up with some rules. You were only allowed to film at your residence on the Avengers Compound. This way there would be nothing identifiable in the background that could easily link people to your brownstone in Brooklyn. Obviously, your faces would not be showing. After pulling an all-nighter, the two of you managed to program Tony’s camera so that it automatically cropped your faces out of frame. Lastly – another obvious given – you would only go by aliases. 

Nomad and Lilac.

They were simple and inconspicuous. Lilacs were your favorite flower. After the accords, Steve was a fugitive living the life of a nomad.  

Once the camera was rolling, Steve turned to you with a ravenous expression. 

“You ready, Lilac?” 

You watched yourself getting bent in half and split open by Steve’s cock on the computer screen. The lewd sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and the squelch of your cunt blasted from the speakers. You sat perched on Steve’s lap, the two of you scrolling through the thousands of comments left on the first video posted on your channel. Thousands. 

“Is this what Peter refers to as ‘breaking the internet?” Steve breathed, eyes wide with shock. “About a thousand people in less than 10 hours watched us fuck.” 

“For once in my life, I have absolutely nothing to say.” You stuttered, shaking your head in disbelief. 

The comment section was flooded with praise. 

user1: look at that pretty little cunt

user2: she takes it like a champ

user3: that man is built like a god AND fucks like one too

user4: he’s basically breaking her and half and she’s just like 🥺 that’s love

user5: BRO IS SHE STILL ALIVE AFTER ALL THAT JFC

user6: he has the prettiest dick i’ve ever seen no homo

user7: kinda want them to top me??????

user8: i had to replay this video like 20 times bc i couldn’t decide who to look at that’s bi culture

user9: if my wife cheated on me with him i’d be jealous…of her

user10: this channel is going to be my new addiction i can feel it

It was amusing truly. Everyone was witnessing goody two shoes Steve Rogers, the golden boy, do things to one of the most loved Avengers in the world that would make the devil himself sweat bullets and didn’t even know it. You, always sitting pretty and prim without a single hair out of place, were splayed out and covered in spit and cum. A sight for the world to see, but only for the man you loved to know firsthand. 

Steve’s embrace tightened as the video continued to play. His lips trailed your neck, covering every inch of exposed skin in kisses and love bites. He suckled the spot directly below your ear, prompting your eyes to slowly shut and your body to go lax against his. He slithered one hand up your body, gripping your face firmly and slipping his thumb in between your parted lips. Watching yourselves on screen was doing a number on him. He knew it would, hence why he went through with the channel with you, but actually seeing the fruit of his deepest fantasies was something else entirely.

“You like when strangers watch me fuck you?” Steve purred in your ear. 

You nodded with a low whine, wrapping your hand around his wrist. Just like that, he had your entire body under his spell. Your back arched slightly, your bottom now flush against his groin. A growl so deep you felt the vibrations from his chest against your back rumbled from your lover. 

“I would have never imagined myself doing something like this,” Steve confessed. “You make me fuckin’ crazy, sweetheart.”

No one would know. It was your dirty little secret. 

AS TIME PASSED, you and Steve’s channel unexpectedly blew up. Lilac and The Nomad became an adult channel that seemingly everyone was talking about. Twitter and Reddit pages dedicated to reposting your content were being made left and right. Your messages were blowing – no pun intended – up with requests from viewers, some even asking for private shows in exchange for unreasonable sums of money. Every now and then, a couple of overzealous users would ask for in-person meet ups. Obviously, you and Steve paid the latter no mind. It was the praise and the thrill of sneaking around that the two of you chased after. It became addicting. The two of you simply could not stop.

That’s how you found yourself in your current circumstance.

Since recovering post-blip, Tony had insisted upon family nights at least once a week. Said night consisted of having dinner together and following it up with a movie marathon. They were nights of wholesomeness, which is why the feeling of Steve’s rough hands creeping past the band of your cotton shorts felt deliciously lude. With your back against his chest, his arms wound around your front, a blanket covering the both of you, and the rest of the Avengers’ attention focused on the screen, Steve could do whatever he wanted with you and no one would notice. You gripped his forearm tightly as a thick finger dipped into your wetness before sliding over your clit. He circled it in slowly, agonizingly. Your composure began to crumble crack by crack. Each time Scott turned to everyone to deliver some stupid commentary or Wanda asked for you to pass a snack to her, a piece of your sanity chipped away. By the time your baby hairs were stuck to your forehead with sweat and your limbs felt nonexistent, Steve’s hand retreated.

He brought his plump lips to your ear discreetly.

“Get the camera, go to the guest bathroom, and wait for me.”

Like a woman possessed, you got up without hesitating and began to make your way out of the family living room.

“Where do you think you’re going, Mrs. America? Sit down,” Tony snarked.

“Period. Not feeling good.” You excused, keeping the lie short and simple so no one would ask questions.

Tony’s nose wrinkled slightly before he nodded, dismissing you with a wave of a hand. From behind you, Pepper scolded him.

“You’re going to have to get better at that. You have a daughter.”

He sighed deeply.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”

Once you were out of earshot, you sprinted up to your and Steve’s room to retrieve the goods, then sprinted right back down to the guest bathroom. It didn’t take long for the love of your life to meet you at your rendezvous, his eyes wide and pupils dilated with anticipation. He made quick work of locking the door behind him before scooping you up into his arms and placing you on the granite counter. You giggled quietly as he practically tore off your shorts and panties, pushing his sweatpants down just enough to slide his cock out before taking the camera from you.

“They’re gonna love this,” Steve murmured, turning the device on and hitting record.

He angled the lens towards the treasure that laid in between your legs, gripping his member with one hand and slapping your cunt with it. Its sheer weight against your already stimulated pearl made you yelp. Steve shushed you quicky, letting go of his cock and letting his hips do the work. He continued to glide in between your wet folds, his now free hand sliding up your torso to push the hem of your oversized sweatshirt up. Once your bare breast were revealed to him, it didn’t take long until he was greedily massaging them in large palm. He allowed the camera to linger for a moment before returning it to its initial angle.

“Look at that,” He remarked lowly. “Already soaked me and I haven’t even been inside of you yet.”

Sure enough, his cock was glistening with your nectar. Your mouth watered, excited to see just how gorgeous it looked on camera.

“Think you can be quiet for me, pretty girl?”

You nodded eagerly, wiggling your hips needily. Steve let you play, chuckling darkly when his head caught your entrance, and he began to push into you. All of the oxygen was knocked out of you. No matter how many times you and Steve had sex, nothing could get you used to the first intrusion of his incredibly thick cock. Your inner thighs trembled as he bottomed inside of you, teeth sinking into your pillowy bottom lip as you suppressed a sharp gasp. Slowly, he withdrew his hips before roughly slamming back into you with a long, wanton moan.

“Fuck. You’re such a good girl letting me have you like this,” Steve praised, low grunts and growls reverberating from him as he increased his pace.

Everything was too much – from the pleasure your man was making you feel, the sounds he was making, how gorgeous he looked in the throes of passion, and the need to keep quiet. You felt like a ticking timebomb that could explode at any second.

And yet, things had just gotten started.

The two of you fucked like depraved animals, pouring every ounce of energy into your mutual pleasure. You wanted to badly to reach up and press your lips against his, but for the life of you could not get your brain to work, for your body was a slave for lust. Steve, however, could sense just what you needed. He placed the camera down, making sure it had a perfect shot of you both, before gathering you in his arms. He pressed his forehead against yours before devouring you’re his with his. He continued to fuck you without faltering, swallowing your whimpers and moans like a man starved.

“I fucking love you,” He huffed quietly just for you to hear, punctuating his words with vigorous thrusts. “I. Love. You. So. Much.”

“I love you,” You hummed, too cock drunk and fucked out. “’M gonna cum…so fucking hard.”

“Do it. While everyone out there worries about you because they think you don’t feel good when in reality, you’re too much of a cock slut and just couldn’t wait to get fucked. Do it.” Steve commanded, his own words shaky as he neared his release.

That was enough to push you over the edge. Unable to stop yourselves, you came with a vociferous sob, the tightening of your channel around his cock sending Steve over with an equally enthusiastic exultation. Rope after rope of cum coated your walls until eventually, it began to ooze out of you before Steve could even pull out. When he did, he had to hold himself back from ravishing you once more. The sight of your pussy, swollen from use, painted in his copious seed was one for sore eyes. He sure to get a generous amount of footage of the money shot, already anticipating the audience’s reactions before switching the camera off. You both recovered slumped in each other’s arms, the hulking blond’s face nuzzled sweetly against your bosom until you both deemed it appropriate to leave.

“I can’t go back out there.” You groaned, your head filling with every embarrassing scenario possible.

Steve chortled endearingly, carefully pulling your panties back up and the hem of your sweatshirt back down and over your bum. Putting your shorts back on was not even in question, you were far too sensitive for that.

“I got you, sugar,” He cooed, wrapping one arm under your bottom and scooping you into his embrace once more. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, dozing off as he walked the two of you to your room.

“Go ahead and upload. I’ll tell them that you don’t feel good and needed a nap, then I’ll be right up.” Steve promised as he gently laid you down on your shared bed.

You made yourself comfortable before reaching for Steve’s computer and doing your thing. You were unable to cease your lips from turning up into a devious smile as your nimble fingers danced across the keyboard.

“got fucked in the bathroom in the middle of family movie night”

After double checking everything, you hit upload and watched the views rise. The sensation Steve’s spent leaking out of your used hole as you read the comments your new home movie was already accruing caused heat to rise to your face. It was still a shock that you and America’s gold boy were living a double life as amateur pornstars.

user1: I thought the load nomad had in their first video was just a one off. Clearly this dude can nut like a fucking champ.

user2: this is so fucking hot especially when they were whispering to each other

user3: KJDHS that’s SO much cum???is that a condition or something???

user4: okay but that’s a nice ass bathroom are they making money off of these videos?

user5: idk if i wanna be nomad or lilac 😵‍💫

user6: i’m this 👌🏼 close to dedicating a fanpage to them

user7: not to be deep on fucking PORNHUB of all places but this is some real shit. you can feel the passion, love, and care they have for each other. this is the type of porn we should all be watching, none of that overproduced fake shit.

user7: this mf is built like captain america what the fuck do you eat nomad

The last comment made you laugh heartily, but also arose some concern. Was someone catching on? Worry filled the absence of lust. All it would take for the entirety of your lives to fall apart was for one person to put the pieces together. As much as you and Steve loved the rush, both of you were playing a dangerous game with your respective livelihoods.

But then you remembered Steve.

Steve and all he had sacrificed for the betterment of the world. Steve, the man who hadn’t even lived his life for himself and never once complained about it. Steve, who was finally being selfish and acting on his own desires rather than everyone else’s. Lilac and The Nomad was more than just an adult content channel. It was a symbol of the love of your life’s emancipation from social standards. The first step of him doing whatever the fuck he wanted, not what everyone else wanted. He deserved it. The two of you had taken every precaution to protect yourselves. No one would know. It was just a stupid joke.

“CHEERS!” EVERYONE CHIMED AS they clinked their glasses together.

“Congratulations, Cap!”

Sam beamed widely upon being called his new moniker for the first time. He placed an amicable arm around his predecessor.

“Thanks guys, and thank you for this opportunity, man.” He lauded.

“Literally, out with the old and in with the new.” Natasha sniggered, earning an eye roll from Steve.

“I can still fire you, Romanoff,” He countered.

The ember haired woman simply flipped him off before taking another swig of Russian vodka.

“On a real note, what are you going to do now?” Bruce inquired.

Steve shrugged, placing his beer bottle down casually.

“I don’t know. The only thing I could really think of was getting a place in Brooklyn, which we just did. I don’t have a plan for my next move and for once it feels…good.”

“Well,” Thor grunted. “You can start by finally getting drunk off of Asgardian liquor.”

Thor reached for a decanter behind him and the former captain a generous glass of the amber liquid.

“There you go! That’s my man! Drink up, spangles!” Tony encouraged.

“I’m not getting drunk,” Steve argued, causing everyone to boo loudly. “But…I’ll have this.”

He turned to you, his glass raised in his hand. His azure orbs were capacious, glimmering with hope. He wore a refreshed expression that you had never seen on him before as he smiled dazzlingly at you. It melted your heart to finally see him like this.

“To our new beginning.”

“Cheers.”

Everyone around you gagged playfully. You hushed them with a threatening hiss.

“I have so much dirt on you guys, I wouldn’t make a single sound if I were you.”

“…. Did that do something to you too?” Bucky teased.

“Hey, shut your fuckin’ mouth, punk!”

“OH! He curses now!”

The night persisted wonderfully. Sam was celebrated in the way he deserved to be. Sure, there was still a lot of work left to do in the world, but all of you were on a new life journey. And sure, new territory was scary, but it was also invigorating. To be able to rejoice together with the people you loved most was even more invigorating.

“Women do not watch porn!” Clint yelled. “That sounds fake!”

“Women probably watch more porn than men,” Natasha argued. “Better porn too. Not whatever you call those 5 minutes of pump and grunt.”

    “I only watch women’s porn.” Laura added, her husband’s expression twisting into one of perplexion.

“You only what?”

“Speaking of porn,” Wanda giggled tipsily. “There’s this new couple that I’ve been watching and they’re—” She ended her sentence with the chef’s kiss gesture.

“Who?! I love that homemade shit!” Sam yelled from across the table.

“Their names are Nomad and Lilac on Pornhub,”

You and Steve tensed up, not moving a single centimeter for fear oF triggering something. What exactly was unknown. He gripped your hand reassuringly.

No one would find out.

“I wanna see.” Bucky chimed in, brows furrowed with curiosity.

Sam tittered mischievously, hopping to the living room to retrieve the television remote. You turned to your partner with a fearful expression. Steve shook his head discreetly, leaning in to peck your cheek soothingly.

“And that’s our que to call it a night.” He quickly stated, saving face successfully.

“He loves her so much he doesn’t even want to see another woman get railed.” Wanda cried to herself drunkenly. “That’s so sweet,”

“Good night, everyone,” You bid, swallowing the frog in your throat.

“Good night, you two. You know where your room is right?” Pepper questioned politely.

“We’re all good, Pep. Thank you for having us,” Steve thanked, wishing everyone one final farewell before rushing the both of you to one of the Stark guest rooms.

“Steven! They’re fucking watching us!” You panicked quietly.

“I believe the correct way to say that is ‘they’re watching us fuck’—”

“…Are you actually joking with me right now?”

“Sweetheart,” Steve uttered softly, cupping your face in his hands. “It’s okay. I promise. Thousands of people have watched us. This is no different. You and I did a pretty damn good job at covering our bases. If the world hasn’t figured it out, the people closest to us definitely won’t.”

Silence filled the room as you retired to the confines of your intrusive thoughts.

 “We can stop if you’re worried. We’ll take everything down, crush up the camera and computer into pieces, toss them into a landmine, and act like nothing ever happened. I want you comfortable, honey.” Steve promised.

You shook your head.

“No, no. I’m sorry. I just got a little shocked. That’s all.” You rushed out.

“Don’t apologize. I got a little scared too. I mean, my heart dropped to my goddamn stomach. I haven’t felt that since Coney Island.”

His belly filled with butterflies when you laughed, all of your worries dissipating into thin air.

“But you know what else I felt?” He proposed, his soft tone taking on a huskier one.

You hummed in response, your heart skipping a beat at the shift in energy.

“Desire. Lust.” He pulled you towards him until your body was pressed against his, your lips barely brushing his. “I want to see their expressions while they watch us.”

It was like you were never worried in the first place when your back hit the mattress and Steve’s body covered yours.

“Let’s calm you down, pretty girl.”

From the living room, the Avengers played each Lilac and The Nomad video one after another. Wanda simply fangirled, loving that her suggestion was actually being enjoyed thoroughly by everyone. The video of you and Steve having a quickie in the bathroom was the best to play. It had become one of your most viewed videos, the reach far greater than you would have imagined.            

“This one’s my favorite personally.” Laura critiqued casually as the video reached its halfway mark.

“In the middle of a family movie night, huh? Which one of you nasty shitheads has pulled one of those?” Sam accused, pointing a finger at each person.

“We would all know if someone did.”

“True. It would be obvious. Did anyone even leave last movie night?”

“Steve and Y/N did.”

No one spoke. Everyone went silent before glancing around at each other and then back up at the television screen.

“B-but, he said she was having…lady problems.” Scott stuttered, his expression growing more and more mortified as he began to connect the dots.

“That sweater does look familiar.” Bucky pointed out, gesturing to the display on the screen with a jerk of his head.

“I, uh, bought one just like that for her,” Natasha spoke under her breath. “It was a souvenir.”

“Steve Rogers wouldn’t do that stuff, guys! C’mon! That’s Captain America!” Scott blurted out in pure denial.

“Not anymore.” Tony rebutted. “That is a free man who can do whatever he pleases. As you can see—” He pointed to the TV animatedly.

“That’s definitely them. A couple months ago he asked me for computer recommendations, and I ended up building one for him. When has that man ever cared about computers?”

“Check the date of the video in the description.”

Unable to handle the anticipation, Bucky snatched the remote from a shocked Scott’s hand and scrolled down to the description. He scoffed with a smile of disbelief.

“Well, I’ll be damned. I didn’t think the little shit had it in him.”

“These are just coincidences, you guys! We have no confirmation whatsoever that it’s the—”

Something akin to a cry mixed with a moan from a couple doors away cut their words short. One that sounded exactly like the ones coming from the TV. Your teammates had all of the confirmation they need.

“Sooooo….how do we look them in the eye now?”

nothing going on in my head at the moment but boxer!bucky😮‍💨

he’d sneak you into the change room before a fight to fuck you into the bench before absolutely annihilating his opponent just like he did to you🤤

xoxo,

stas

Boxer!Bucky is 🔥, so I don't blame you for that going through your mind. 😉

Even better because Bucky doesn't usually fuck you before a fight. You weren't sure if it was a myth that boxers didn't fuck before fights, but your man took it seriously. Something about decreasing aggression and energy. You respected that.

So imagine your surprise when he sneaks you in and bends you over the bench. It's quick, dirty and you're a stunned mess when he finishes. Sliding your panties back into place, he smiles and explains sex can also release tension, possibly release more testosterone and give him a psychological boost.

He also may have heard his opponent say he planned to fuck you at some point and wanted him to see who you belong to. 😉

Love and thanks! ❤️

The Penthouse

18+

A group of obscenely rich, horrifically powerful, and sex-addicted individuals share more than one dark secret - but their favorite secret is you. The pretty little thing they've got living in the lavish penthouse they bought together, where they can escape to when they need a break from their families.

Series Warning: Multiple Characters x Reader, adultery, hard drug use, smut, depiction of rough sex, dark kinks (specified in each part).

1: Ragdoll ARI LEVINSON

2: Seductress STEVE ROGERS

3: Special STEVE KEMP

A Perfect Fit

Mobster! Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You’re working your usual shift at a high-end lingerie store when an unlikely client makes an appearance.

Warnings: Non-con/Dub-con, smut, Coercion

Word count: 4k

A/N: This is trashy filth. Period​​​. One-shot.

Main Masterlist  // Library

♦ DARK. EXPLICIT. 18+. You’re responsible for the media you choose to consume ♦

Today is slow.

The only customers idly perusing the racks are two teenage girls who giggle and slap each other on the arm each time they hold up one one of the expensive sets, and an undecided young woman whose skeptical glances at the price tags inform you she’ll likely leave the store empty-handed.

Keep reading

𝕴'𝖑𝖑 𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖇𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖙𝖔 𝖞𝖔𝖚 | dark!eddie munson x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 | you always believed that Eddie would return... that he would escape, somehow, from the Upside Down and hold you again, tell you that he would never leave without his girl. well, something came back, that's for sure.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 | 6.8k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 | smut (dubcon/noncon, really it's more like... noncon turned con?), extreme gore/violence, blood, vomiting (emetophobia tw), minor character death, vampire shenanigans, dark-ish eddie but it's complicated?, kinda stockholm syndrome-y, the most fucked up take on a "fix it fic" because it's me we're talking about here

this is a dark fic, do not hit 'keep reading' if any of the warnings would be triggering for you and/or if you are not 18 or older, thank you

You couldn’t count on all your fingers and toes how many times you’d pictured this: him, here; Eddie, on your doorstep, alive.  It hadn’t even been two days and you couldn’t count how many times you’d pictured this.  

“Oh my god,” you gasped, “tell me— tell me I’m not dreaming, Eddie—”

“I’m here,” he breathed, like he’d run all the way to your door— maybe he did.  “I’m here, baby—”

You cut him off as you jumped on him, sobbing as you wrapped him up in a hug.  You didn’t believe it when Dustin told you that Eddie didn’t make it out, and they all thought you were just in denial because you loved him so much.  But you knew… he wasn’t gone.  You would’ve felt it, the moment he left.  You knew he was alive, and you held him so tightly, making sure it was real and not just some delusion of yours.  But he felt real, he felt soft and hard in all the right places, his shoulders were strong and broad as you rested your weight on them— he even smelled the same if, maybe, not quite as good… running around in hell for a few days will do that to you.

There was one thing different that you noticed right away, though.  He wasn’t warm.

“You must be so— oh god, come on,” you stammered, letting him out of the embrace to drag him inside.  “You must be freezing— and so tired— have you slept?”

He shook his head.  He still seemed a little dazed, and you guided him to your kitchen, pulling out a chair for him to sit in.  He collapsed into it, leaning on the table slightly.  His clothes were stained with blood, and you couldn’t decide where to start— should you go for a blanket first, or your first aid kit, or just a glass of water— or would he let you start cleaning his face a bit?  Maybe you could run him a bath?

“Sweetie,” you whispered as you knelt down before him, holding his face in your hands.  His eyes were bloodshot and glassy; he still had blood on the corners of his mouth.  “I can’t believe you’re— you’re here.”

He turned his face as your fingers brushed over his cheeks, and started staring at one of your hands closely.  Slowly, he reached up to it, holding it as he leaned in and pressed his lips against your wrist softly.  You melted inside, and watched him take a deep breath against your skin.

“I-I’m gonna get you a blanket,” you decided, feeling how icy his grip was on your hand.  You stood up, but he held on too tightly for you to get away.  “Lemme go, Ed, I’ll be right back, okay?  I swear— just let me get you the blanket, and then some water.”

He relented, releasing your wrist and watching you cross the room, ducking into the hallway to grab the thick wool blanket you kept there.

“Here you go,” you smiled as you ran up to him again, draping it around him as he stared up at you.  You took the opportunity to give him another tight hug, but jumped back when you heard him hiss.  “Oh, god— am I hurting you?  Fuck, of course I am, you’re still injured— I’m sorry, let me give you some bandages, okay?  I don’t want anything getting infected…”

You trailed off as you spun around helplessly, trying to remember which cabinet had the antiseptic— eventually, you got down on your knees and found it on your second try.  There were bandages and gauze nearby, and you snagged those along with a rag to clean up the extra blood and some hydrogen peroxide while you were at it.

His eyes followed your hands as you set everything on the kitchen table, kneeling in front of him again and wetting the rag with some antiseptic to start.  “Okay, I’m just gonna… lift your shirt.  Really carefully, and you let me know if anything hurts, okay?”

He didn’t actually respond, or even nod, but you went ahead and gently peeled up the bottom of the shirt— the dried blood stuck to his skin, and you winced in fear that you’d made it worse.  But, when you glanced up at his face, it didn’t show any signs of pain… his stare was blank, and focused in on you.

You managed to get the shirt up, seeing more dried blood all over his torso.  “Oh, Ed, they really ate you alive, huh?” you whispered under your breath.  “This might sting a little… but it’ll hurt a lot less than these did.”

You swiped the rag over his skin, watching the stains of blood eventually start washing away.  You kept wiping and wiping, cleaning more and more, waiting to find the bites and open wounds that all of this must have come from…

Looking up at him, you tried not to show on your face that anything was wrong.  His face was still mostly expressionless; you shivered.

“Eddie…” you breathed, cleaning his entire stomach until there was nothing left to do but sit back and look at it— look at the impossible.  “Eddie, there’s no… there aren’t any…”

His torso was clean, all the blood washed away and only skin left— no wounds, no bites, not even a scratch.  Just the tattoos you remembered, the trail of hair leading to his belt buckle, that little scar he’d had as long as you knew him.  But no signs he’d ever been attacked at all.

As much as you never even thought to question Dustin, you wrinkled your brows together and looked up at Eddie quizzically.  When Dustin told you Eddie was dead, you knew he was wrong, but you didn’t think he was lying.  Dustin never would’ve left Eddie behind if he thought there was a chance to save him… right?  But you were forced to wonder how it was possible that Eddie was here, covered in blood and very much alive, if Dustin swore he’d died in another dimension.  “Did… did they…?” you began to ask gently.  “Did they leave you?  Did they try to hurt you— did something happen?”

Eddie shook his head.

“Then… what did happen?  Did the bats attack you?”

He looked confused now, too.  He thought about it for a long time.  “Yeah… yeah, they bit me.  A lot.  And I was bleeding.”

Okay, so it was his blood he was covered in.  But where did it come from?

“And I passed out.  I thought I was dying.”

“But you woke up?” you assumed.

He nodded.  “Yeah— they were gone, and I… I felt really sick, but I was awake.  And I tried to remember where the gate was… and I found it, and then I found you.”

Well, that made a certain amount of sense, but not quite enough.  “L-let me get you some water,” you offered, standing up quickly.  As you turned away, he grabbed you at the wrist again.

“No,” he blurted out, and you sighed with heartache as you moved close to him again. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you whispered.  “What do you need?”

“Hungry,” he finally said, “I’m hungry.”

You smiled, because you knew how to fix that.  “Okay— I’m gonna get you something to eat, alright?”

You opened the fridge and examined the contents under the yellow lightbulb’s shine.

“I’ve got fettuccine alfredo,” you listed, “and, uh, shepherd’s pie… half a cheese pizza… strawberry jell-o?”

You glanced over at him, waiting for something to work with.

“What sounds good?” you prompted him.

“Meat,” he answered flatly.

“O-okay…” you stammered, looking back into the fridge.  “I’ve got a chicken breast in here— I’ll cook that for you, okay?  It won’t take long.  I’ll slice it thin and it’ll cook fast, okay?  Does that sound alright?”

He hesitated, but nodded.

It made you feel better knowing you could finally do something for him; you offered for him to lay down or get in the shower while you cooked his food, but he just waited— you sliced the chicken and seasoned it while the pan heated, glancing over at him every couple of minutes.  Thankfully you’d convinced him to drink some water in the meantime, but he nursed it surprisingly slowly considering how long he must have gone without.

“You’re sure you don’t want anything else with this?” you asked, seeming to tear him out of a trance.

“Huh?” he mumbled.

“You know— I could boil some pasta, chop some veggies, something to eat with this?”

“N-no, just the chicken is fine…” he insisted.

“Well, it’s almost ready,” you smiled.  “Smells good, right?”

His nostrils flared for a second, and his eyes darted away.  You knew a no when you saw one… he reached up and covered his nose and mouth for a second, wiping the blood off of his mouth and chin— seemed like a good thing to do before he ate.

Sliding the food onto a plate, you waved a hand over it to hopefully speed up the cooling-off process; you cut one of the pieces of cooked meat in half, to make sure it was white all the way through, and sighed in relief when it was.  Last thing Eddie needed now was salmonella…

You felt like a proper housewife, setting the plate in front of him with a smile, taking your own seat.  “Here you go, bon appetit,” you beamed, placing the fork next to him just in time for him to snatch it up and dig in.

You brought your elbows up on the table and rested your chin on your fist, and watched him eat— maybe a little too closely… but you just wanted to see his eyes light up again!  You wanted to see him acting a bit closer to normal, and you knew how getting some food in your belly could do so much for your energy… especially after this long.

He carefully chewed each bite, swallowing thickly, like he could barely get it down.  You winced.  “It’s not too tough, is it?  Oh god, Ed, you know I’m not a great cook or anything— is it dry?  It’s dry, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, and you rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t spare my feelings,” you chuckled, “you like to lie about liking my cooking— but not right now, Ed, I can make you something else, I can go pick something up—”

You reached onto his plate and grabbed a cube of chicken, holding it with two fingers as you took a bite to prove that he was, in fact, flattering you and it tasted like shit.

But it was fine, actually; sure, not the most compelling dish, but not bland per se and not incorrectly prepared.

As you wondered why he was having so much trouble with it, he started coughing.  You leaned closer, reaching to hold his shoulders, but he brushed you away, turning to keel over towards the floor and cough harder and harder—

When he vomited the first time, you hadn't even noticed yet that it wasn't bile— you cooed at him sympathetically, squeezing his shoulder and trying to hold his hair back, and then froze when another stream of fluid finally caught your attention: black, nearly pitch black.  The puddle on the floor, you realized, was tarry and thick.  You fought the urge to grimace as you yanked your feet away; you didn't want him to feel self conscious, he'd been through enough, but…this wasn't right.

Vomiting on a near-empty stomach is bad enough… it shouldn't have been this dark, nor this plentiful.  He convulsed as another rush came out of his mouth, and you started to cry a little as you grabbed his hand and held it tight.  Your heart hurt to see him like this, but your gut sank with the knowledge that something was absolutely, horribly wrong… 

"What happened to you?" you whispered, not much of a genuine question because you knew he couldn't answer.  You didn't know much about the place he'd been— no one did— and he'd apparently been there for days.  You decided not to ask him what he did to survive, because it didn't matter: he was here.  You almost lost him, and you'd do anything to keep him here with you.  You weren't ready to lose him again.

“I’m sorry,” he finally choked out when he stopped, catching his breath and sitting back up.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and when his eyes fell on you again, a chill ran over your spine.

“Eddie, don’t apologize— you don’t have anything to apologize for,” you assured.

“Not yet,” he replied, and you tilted your head.

“What…?”

You stopped yourself, because you saw his eyes fall on your exposed neck.  His mouth fell open slightly, his eyes went glassy again.

“Eddie,” you breathed— because you knew, somehow, that you needed to call for him.  That he wasn’t quite… here, even though he was right in front of you.  “We should go to the hospital… you’re sick.”

“I’m not sick,” he promised, “I’m just hungry.”

He leaned a little closer to you, and you stood up quickly.  “I’ll make you something else,” you decided, turning and walking to the fridge again— but then he was behind you, in an instant, so fast that you yelped a little when he pressed up against you from behind.

“I’m so sorry,” he said again.

“I told you not to—”

He grabbed you tighter, and as much as you’d longed for him to hold you again, you instinctively tried to squirm away— but he was too strong.  He’d always been stronger than you… this was different.  This was too strong.  “I’m hungry— I’m so hungry, just… just stay still,” he pleaded.

You whined when his fingers dug into your shoulders, his nose running over the skin of your neck.  “Eddie, I-I don’t… I don’t understand,” you whispered.

“I can feel your heartbeat, I can hear it,” he informed you, “I can… smell you.  You smell good.”

His mouth traced along your pulse, and you knew that this moment could easily be interpreted as foreplay— the compliments, the mouth on your neck, that was all pretty typical for Eddie when he was ‘in the mood.’  The thing was, it was so clearly not that, just from the way his voice sounded, from the way he held you against him painfully tight.  “You’re hurting me,” you whimpered.

“I’m sorry,” he said one more time, “i-it’s gonna hurt less if you stop moving, baby.”

You gasped as he started to bite down on you, much too hard already.  “N-no, Eddie—!”

Your voice broke and fell into silence when his teeth pierced your skin.  The pain shattered over your body like a crack in a windshield; it stole your voice, and when you tried to cry, there was only a silent tear that fell down your cheek and onto the tile floor.

His arms wrapped around you, and you went limp in them.  He stopped suckling at the wound he’d created for a moment, in order to let you fall just enough for him to catch you; he dragged you into the hallway where he knelt down and cradled you, holding the back of your head to keep your neck tilted just the way he needed to make the blood flow fastest.  He lapped at it voraciously, breathing heavier, but slower, than he had before.  Your body naturally tried to fight him, your weak arms pushing at his shoulders every time the pain throbbed in your neck, but soon the energy was quite literally drained from you and your arms fell limp at your sides.

It felt like it went on forever, your vision going blurry from far more than just the tears that filled your eyes, your fingers twitching through the pins and needles as you longed for the strength to push him away and run— but you were paralyzed, everywhere except your heart, which kept beating faster yet weaker by the minute.

“E-Eddie,” you croaked under your breath, the best you could do to beg for your life.  Amazingly, for how little it was, it seemed to work.  He broke away from you, and you saw his face appear above yours— his mouth and chin were soaked in blood, drops that had run down striping his neck.  He swallowed and started to catch his breath.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he panted, “I didn’t— fuck, I’m sorry… you’re gonna be okay.”

You blinked quickly, trying to reach up to hold his collar— to tell him it was okay, you still loved him, even if you were terrified of him.  He looked like your Eddie again, he had the light in his eyes, the sweetness in his voice you were used to, and you fought through your exhaustion to smile weakly and blink the tears away.  “I’m… so tired…” you let out with each heave of your chest, too weak to really speak— all you could do was make the right movements with your mouth as you panted to shape each breath into words.

“That’s okay,” he nodded, “fall asleep.  I’ll be here when you wake up, and I’m gonna… I’ll explain everything.”

You sighed slowly, feeling your head roll to the side as you went totally lifeless— slumping onto the floor just in time to slip into darkness.

~

You startled awake, grabbing your neck instinctively.  It all felt like some horrible dream…

Until you turned and saw Eddie sitting at the foot of the bed.  “Hey,” he offered sympathetically, leaning closer; you scooted back slightly, and he sighed.  “D-don't be scared of me, please,” he begged, looking heartbroken, which broke your heart, too.

“I’m not scared of you,” you assured, “I just— is it really you?  You’re my Eddie, right?  Not some Upside Down version of him?”

He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck nervously.  “Uh— honestly, babe, I don’t know for sure.  I think we can both agree some things have changed for me in the last few days.”

You nodded.  “Just… tell me what happened.  Or what you remember.”

“Well... after I found the gate... I wandered in the woods, I was so lost and— baby, you can’t imagine how hungry I was,” he explained, pleading with you to understand.  “It hurt, I felt like I couldn’t even walk, it was like something was inside me trying to claw its way out… and there was this, um, deer.”

You choked on your own throat, because you already knew where this was going— if he asked you to guess what happened next, you wouldn’t be able to say it, you would say that you didn’t know… but you did.  You knew, deeper inside yourself than you were willing to look.

“I’ve never even shot a deer before or anything,” he reminded you, “but I caught it with just my hands— I chased it, and it wasn’t even that hard, really… I don’t remember it all that well… I just remember, um, feeding on it for a while.”

“Did it help?”

“Not as much as I hoped it would… I knew, by then, what I really needed.  I wouldn’t let myself believe it, I wouldn’t say it, but… I swear— I came here because I knew you’d know how to sort this all out.  I wasn’t going to… I didn’t want to do that to you.”  He whined slightly, letting his head fall into his hands as he hid his face.  “God, baby, I’m so sorry—”

“Eddie,” you stopped him firmly.  “Did doing that to me… help you?”

Even before he nodded shamefully, you knew the answer, it was obvious: he was acting normal again, acting like himself— if a little more serious than usual.  You recognized this Eddie, even when you were half-dead from the blood loss and knew that he was responsible for it… even then, it was him.

“You’re not hungry anymore?” you continued.  He shook his head.  “Then it’s okay… I told you I’d do anything for you, Eddie, that I’d die for you—”

“I won’t kill you,” he insisted.  “I can’t believe I ever hurt you— I didn’t know how to stop, babe, I really could’ve—”

“Shh,” you soothed, reaching up to stroke his face as his eyes started to water.  “It’s okay, what’s mine is yours.  Even my body— even my… um, my blood.”

It felt weird to say it like that, but it was true.  “I don’t know how long it’ll last,” he whispered.  “I don’t know if I’ll be that desperate again… what if I can’t stop myself next time?”

“We’re going to find you a real meal, Eddie,” you promised, “and maybe there won’t need to be a next time.”

~

“Guess you’re lonely without that freak boyfriend of yours, huh?” Greg snickered.

You looked away, holding your arms tightly across your chest.  “Y-yeah— I should’ve… left him sooner.  I didn’t know what he was doing— him and his, uh, cult…”

“Weren’t you in Hellfire?” Greg wondered, crossing his arms to match yours, which made the puffy sleeves of his letter jacket look even more ridiculous.  “We all thought you were his second-in-command— you helped hide him from us, didn’t you?”

“W-well, that’s why I asked you to meet me here,” you explained, “to apologize… for everything.  I wouldn’t have protected him if I knew he was killing people.”

You hated the taste of those lies in your mouth.  If this all went according to plan, no one would ever have to know you said those things about your Eddie, your angel— but could he hear you now?  It was so dark in the woods at night, so you couldn’t tell if he was in earshot.  If not, that would be in part a relief, but it would also be a problem since he wouldn’t be here to save you when the time was right.

“So, I’m sorry,” you concluded.  “I hope we can… be friends.”

You were looking down at the ground sheepishly, but in the edge of your vision, you saw Greg stepping closer.  “Now, what do you wanna be friends with me for?” he purred.

“U-um,” you choked, fighting the urge to step back as Greg stalked closer.  

“I think you might have a little crush, freak.”

Greg was right in front of you now, his sneakers just beside yours, and you found the courage to look up at him.  He had the most horrible smile on his face, raising a hand to stroke your cheek.  You weren’t much of an actress, clearly, because you couldn’t help but jerk away.

“Aw, don’t be shy now,” Greg frowned, “you’re the one that asked me to come see you tonight… at Skull Rock… alone.  I wasn’t born yesterday, sweetheart, I know what that means.”

You wanted to scream at him, I’m not your fucking sweetheart, but you couldn’t; instead, you stayed still and let his hands reach around to your waist.

Now, we need to establish some… ground rules, you heard Eddie’s voice in your head, memories from yesterday still clear in your head.  First rule is, you give the signal, and it’s over.  You don’t have to be a part of this if you don’t want to.

You were just as sure now as you were then that you needed to do this, even if, yes, it was revolting to have Greg Willis pull you closer and slip his hands far too low on your back.

"You know, I always thought you'd be pretty if you dressed more normal," Greg informed you.  "You know, ditch the ripped jeans and get a dress or something?  You could even be popular… if you went out with me."

Shuddering, you yelped in shock when he grabbed your hips and yanked them forward into his own.  His grin was shining in the moonlight, those perfect teeth in that megawatt smile.  You hesitantly reached your hands up to rest on his chest.

"What do you say?" he pressed.

"U-um, well, Greg," you stuttered, "the truth is, I'm not really interested in going out."

He laughed, and you blinked quickly.  "Damn, alright," he purred, "if you just wanna hook up, I'm not gonna say no to that…"

Second rule, don’t let him touch you too much… or I might try to kill him too early, and then it all goes to shit.

Your hands balled into fists when he kissed you; he tasted like toothpaste and coffee, and you were trying so hard not to grimace or shove him back so you could deck him.  He slipped his tongue in your mouth, far too aggressive, far too soon— you whimpered and pulled him back, the two of you stumbling together until your back was pressed up against the tree.  His hands squeezed your waist, then slipped down to grope your butt; you gasped and broke away, disgusted.  He didn’t seem to notice your disdain, or simply didn’t care, and reached up to brush your hair out of the way so he could kiss your neck.  Of course, when he saw the fresh scar there, he moved his head back.  “Wh… what happened to you?” Greg whispered.  “It was that cult, right?  Did they try to… sacrifice you, like they did to Jason’s girl?”

You pushed his hand away, but he just grabbed you again, tighter— you whimpered slightly and tried to writhe out of his grasp.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he cooed, “I’m gonna make it all better…”

He grabbed your jaw, about to force you to kiss him again, when a loud thud beside you made you both turn to the side; Eddie, finally, had jumped down from the tree and was standing there glaring at both of you.

“Sorry, Greg, but she’s spoken for,” Eddie grunted, pouncing on him.  Greg was well over six foot, star quarterback for the Tigers football team; Eddie knocked him down like it was nothing, sending them both flying back nearly two yards and pinning him easier than if he were just some puny kid.  You yelped and covered your face, shrinking down to sit on the ground.

Final rule, you remembered as you swallowed and forced your eyes shut tightly, when I… do what I do… don’t look.  I don’t want you to see me like that.

Memories flashed in your mind, against your will, of that look in Eddie’s eyes just before he bit you, of the way his voice sounded when he told you how hungry he was.  They were interspersed with memories of your Eddie, the way he used to be— when he would make you laugh and hold you close and make all your fears go away.  You’d been holding onto your dream that that Eddie would come back, but you could hear the sounds next to you— the muffled whimpers, the voracious growls, the… gulping.

You took your hands down away from your face, slowly; you had to look.  You had to know.

It was so dark, it was just shadows on shadows; you were able to make out Eddie’s wild hair first, then the general shape of him— he was straddling Greg, on top of him, and you realized then that the movement was Greg’s legs shaking.  Eddie’s rings glistened in the moonlight, his hand covering Greg’s mouth to stop him from screaming— all just below where Greg’s wide, white eyes suddenly met yours.  You’d never been horrified to the bone before by just one look from a man; you’d never seen a man begging for his life before, either.

Eddie suddenly sat up, tossing his head back, gasping for a breath.  He let his hand fall away from Greg’s mouth.

“Please,” was all the jock was able to weakly choke out, blood sputtering out of his mouth as he spoke.

Eddie leaned down again, and you heard two horrible things at once: Greg’s final, pathetic cry; and the sound of ripping flesh.

The only thing more horrible than that was the silence.  The heavy, abyssal silence of the woods— death didn’t make a sound.  Instead there was just the absence of sound, and the absence of life.

Greg’s throat was still between Eddie’s teeth, but Eddie was sitting up again, flesh dangling from his mouth.  He spit out the piece of viscera, bending down to lap and slurp at Greg’s gushing open wound.  Your eyes refused to tear away, even as Eddie feasted for what felt like hours, even when he wrapped his arms around Greg’s lifeless carcass and pulled his torso up so he could eat without leaning down onto the ground; he pushed Greg’s head back, until there was a horrific crack and his whole head was dangling off of what was left of his neck— Eddie nearly unhinged his jaw to drink from where he’d torn the boy open.

It was finally over when Eddie groaned loudly, a satisfied sigh, and dropped Greg’s body unceremoniously onto the ground again.  Only then did he seem to sense your eyes on him, and he turned around to look at you.  The lower half of his face, even his nose and cheeks, were dripping in blood that looked black in the dark of the evening; his eyes dilated, blown out until they were almost all black— actually, maybe there were all black… you couldn’t find any of that warm brown you were used to.  Even without irises, you could tell that those eyes were piercing right through you, and you froze under their weight.

“Thanks,” he smiled at you.  “You were right, that helped a lot.”

When you said nothing, only starting to cry, Eddie pouted slightly and tilted his head.

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

You dared another look at Greg’s body, his head at an impossible angle from being nearly decapitated, and back up to Eddie; he frowned and let out a disappointed sigh.

“I was afraid this would happen,” he admitted, “that’s why I told you not to look.  It was hard for me to believe that I could do this, too.  But this is who I am now.”

You shook your head, starting to crawl backward along the ground— sharp leaves and sticks poked your hands as you clambered across the forest floor, but you were ignorant to the pain.  “Then you’re not who I thought you were.”

“Don’t do that,” he warned, seeming frustrated as you kept trying to move back.  “Babe, really?  Are you gonna run away from me?”

I’m gonna try.

You fought to get up on your legs again, but they were shaking and your knees gave out instantly.  Resorting to attempting to crawl along the ground, you obviously didn’t make it far at all before he jumped on you; he was so fucking fast, how was he so fucking fast?

You cried loudly and kicked your legs to try to get him away, but he turned you on your back in a second and pinned you down by your shoulders.

“It’s still me,” he promised, but when he smiled at you, his mouth was still coated in blood.  “Baby, it’s still me!  Don’t be scared.”

You shook your head, tears already flowing down your cheeks.  “N-no, Eddie, it’s not.  You’re not a killer— you wouldn’t hurt anyone, ever.”

“Not if I didn’t have to,” he corrected sternly.  “But Greg was a piece of shit anyway—”

“He was a person!”

“You’re the one that picked him!” Eddie reminded you sharply.  And yes, that was true.  You’d seen Greg’s eyes on you more than once at school before, even though you were a freak and he was a quarterback; you knew he would meet you here alone if you asked him to.  You knew he was kind of an asshole— but you hadn’t really appreciated before what it would do to you to send him to his death.  That was your mistake, clearly; you thought you knew what you were doing, but you couldn’t understand it until you saw it.

“Eddie, this isn’t you,” you insisted, “you’re not you— I believed it, because I wanted to so much, but—”

“Stop,” he barked, glaring at you as his nostrils flared.  You shut your mouth quickly, afraid to anger him further.  “Do you need me to remind you?” he breathed.  “Do you need to remember how it used to be?”

He reached down to his belt.  “N-no,” you sputtered, “Eddie, please—”

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, ignoring you, “I haven’t been taking care of you since I got back.  I’ve been… distracted.  I’m thinking clearly now, on a full stomach and all.”

When you reached up and tried to push him off of you, his hands pinned yours down at the wrists, and you shivered as he squeezed them tightly.  “Eddie,” you panted, “y-you’re so cold…”

“You miss when I was warm, huh, princess?” he spat.  “I was so weak then, so… fragile.  Like you are now.”

He roughly jerked your arms up, holding both your wrists in one hand so his dominant hand could run down your body; it settled on your neck, squeezing it just enough to make you tense up and stop struggling.

“I mean, look at you, such a tiny little thing,” he cooed, “you could just… snap.”

You choked on a sob as his hand tightened on your throat.  He growled, low in his chest, and shut his eyes as he took a deep breath.

“I can feel your pulse, you know, I can hear it a mile away,” he informed you.  “It’s so fast now, is that because you’re scared, babe?  You don’t need to be.  I’m not hungry anymore… I think Greg’s gonna hold me for a while.”

He leaned in closer, taking a long inhale right beside your face as you bit your shaking lip.

“But it’s okay,” he whispered, “it’s okay to be scared.  I like it, actually… makes you smell even sweeter.”

His free hand moved lower down again, and roughly ripped your jeans to shreds— and only a split second later, carefully spread your legs, in a bizarre shift to delicacy; you didn’t resist anymore… there wasn’t much use.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, “see?  You remember better than you think.  Maybe it’s me that’s forgotten— it all feels so long ago now… but I’m gonna remind us both how much you need this.”

He wasn’t touching you anymore, he was opening his jeans and pulling out his cock, tugging on himself loosely a few times to make sure he was hard enough.  His tongue darted out over his lips as he looked down at you writhing under him— that, funny enough, reminded you of how it was before… except, you know, for all the blood and that you were in the fucking woods and that you just watched him murder someone with his bare hands— and teeth.  You cried a little harder as he pressed himself up against your opening.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, princess, okay?” he laughed— like it was funny that you were terrified.  “I’m gonna make you feel good, just like I used to.”

But good isn’t quite what you’d call the sharp sting of him pushing in in one go, splitting you open on his cock.  “Eddie!” you shouted; he usually got you ready first, helped you warm up so you could take him— it wasn’t exactly an optional step, with his size.  Your pain didn’t bother him much anymore, apparently.

“Ahah, fuck,” he laughed lightly through a sigh, “I remember this, actually— remember how fuckin’ tight you always were.  Like you never wanna let me go… sweet little cunt holding onto me so tight…”

He gave you another rough thrust with a grunt, and you whimpered, tightening your fists above where he was holding you down.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he purred, “my pretty girl, so beautiful when you cry for me.”

“S-stop,” you gasped out, even though this was what you thought you wanted— even though your toes were starting to curl.

“I’m not gonna stop,” he panted, “I’m gonna fuck you, and fill you, again and again, until you remember—” he groaned and gripped your wrists tighter— “that you’re mine.”

And you hated that your back arched, that your body still responded to him in a time like this; he moaned proudly, watching you with those impossibly-dark eyes.

“I bet you thought about this while I was gone,” he assumed with a growl, “I bet you touched your lonely little pussy while you waited for me, huh?  Wasn’t enough, was it— ‘cause you need me, don’t you?”

This monster had all the memories of every time you and Eddie were together, of everything that you ever said, everything that made you fall apart, and he was using it to manipulate you… but fuck, he was right.  You used to say it all the time.

“This is how you like it,” he recalled, “nice and deep, right?  You like to still be able to feel me in the morning.”

He held his hips close to yours and grinded against you, forcing the tip of his cock to hit so deep it was like he was in your throat; your eyes rolled back, and he dipped down to lick a stripe up your neck.

“Sweet girl,” he cooed, “my needy little princess— are you feeling better now?  Not so scared, now that you know it’s really me?  Nobody but me could fuck you like this.”

Yeah, he used to say that, too, but it used to mean something different.  He pulled back and gave you a long but fast stroke, and you choked on a cry as your insides clenched.

“Y’wanna come, babe?” he encouraged.  “You’re close, your heartbeat’s getting fast again…”

It was so close, too close, and you wanted to fight it off— but your pleasure was so much stronger than you, just like he was now.  It kept your mind blank and your body weak as you started to convulse rhythmically, fighting against the words trying to escape your throat: the thing you always used to say when you came.

“Say it,” he teased— he remembered, too, what you always used to say.  You hissed through your teeth, but kept it down, even as the feeling started to make you shake uncontrollably and go blind for a split second.  “I wanna hear it, princess, just say it for me.”

You went limp beneath him, the sensation pulling away as fast as it had came, leaving you numb and lifeless— so to speak— as he fucked into you harder.

“I know you love me, baby,” he sighed, “c’mon, just say it.  Isn’t that what you wanted?  To tell me you loved me one more time?”

I’d do anything to have him back, you remembered praying, to anyone or anything that would listen, anything, I’ll give anything, just please bring him back to me.  It all came into perspective then, and your fear abated.  You sobbed harder, struggling under him more— but for a new reason.  “Eddie,” you cried, “please, let me go— please…”

He must’ve known it was different, because his expression changed as he carefully let your wrists go; you reached up and grabbed his blood-soaked shirt, pulling him down into you.

“I love you,” you told him, “I love you, I love you so much…”

“Shh,” he soothed, slipping his arms under you and hugging you, “I know, princess…”

“Don’t ever leave me again,” you begged, “never, ever ever—”

“Hey, hey,” he stopped you as your pleas became incomprehensible from your crying.  “I’m not leaving you, okay?”

“Ever?” you added, sniffling, and he released you partially from the hug to smile down at you softly.

“Ever,” he agreed.  “I’m so sorry that I had to go away before… but I came back, didn’t I?  I’ll always come back to you.”

You looked up at him, beaming even through your tears, and reached up to hold his face.  As your palm held his cheek, he looked at you and his eyes were his again, those same eyes that always made you feel so safe.  Your thumb stroked over his skin and he turned his face to give you a small kiss on your wrist; you gently grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled him down into a real kiss— sour and metallic with blood, which you chose to ignore.

“I love you, too,” he mumbled against your lips, “and I missed you so much.”

“I thought I was gonna die without you,” you admitted, and he stopped kissing you to laugh.  “What’s so funny?”

“I thought I was, too,” he replied, looking into your eyes again, “and babe— I think I did.”

SEX, DRUGS, AND ROCK. + EDDIE MUNSON

m.list / nav. / kofi. / discord. summary. you devise a plan to confess your feelings for your best friend Eddie, and things quickly escalate beyond your expectations. author’s note. just started watching S4 and haven’t even finished it, already drooling over Eddie. ya’ll know I love my awkward men with long hair my god he is so fine. everyone thank Bee below for proofreading <3

[ ❥ ] pairing. eddie munson x reader

[❥]wordcount. 3.3k

[ ❥ ] genre. 18+, pwp

[❥]warnings.no S4 spoilers, best friends to lovers, language, mature theme, slight drug usage, pet names, begging, body worship, whimpering, oral (f), thigh fetish, boob sucking, save a horse ride a cowboy, bottom eddie, slight sub/dom, protected sex, me not knowing how DND works

You and Eddie had been friends since the start of high school. You were there for the weird shaved head phase and stood directly right next to him the moment he developed his everlasting smitten crush on Chrissy Cunningham. Alas, you were the first girl to ever actually talk to him, the first friend, and at the moment, his only best friend.

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I couldn’t breathe until I drew Eddie in *those* pants and *those* teeth ;) 🧛🦇

They do be fixing that boat

18+

⋆ ★ You weren't even a fan, but here you were fucking the band's drummer in his tour bus. <3

Pairing: band!rafe x fem!reader

(a/n: posting this so y'all don't think I passed away😍😍😍 ps: I imagine rafe being a pouge in this. )

"For fuck sakes Cameron! Would'ja unlock the goddamn door?!" JJ, the bands guitarist struck the bus door as if it been his electric guitar.

"I'm coming, hold your horses!" Rafe yelled back, his voice muffled by the thick door. You could picture him rolling his eyes and a smirk playing on his lips. "Just giving our guest here the grand tour."

The bus fell silent for a moment--beside from the squelching slick of your cunt--and you could almost feel the confused glances being exchanged between JJ and Pope. Then, a loud groan reverberated through the door.

"You mean to tell me you brought a groupie on board? We have another show in a few hours, Rafe! This isn't the time for your extracurricular activities." Pope, their bassist, voice carried a hint of frustration and concern.

"Oh, shut up, Hayward. It's not what you and Maybank think," Rafe retorted, his hand still gripping possessively on your hip, his cock slotting in and out your sopping wet cunt. "Open the damn door and see for yourself!"

"It's locked you asshole!" You heard Pope quip, causing Rafe to laugh like the little shit he was.

"Oh yeah, guess you'll have to wait then!" Rafe shouted.

You wondered if they could hear you--the little whimpers that laced your lips at every rock of Rafe's hips--as you had heard them but actively decided to ignore them. 

"Rafe hurry up." you whined, tilting your head back to rest on Rafe's shoulder. "They're waiting."

"You think I give a shit about them waiting?" he asked you, his rocking movement stilling for a moment, and because you didn't want the pleasure to end, you quickly shook your head 'no.' 

Rafe had you bent over the tour bus dining table, your leg hitched upon the carbon steel, as he gave it to you from the back, repeatedly.

Your leather skirt and bra were bunched at your waist, and your shirt was on the ground somewhere. Rafe's impatience had torn the fishnets you had on earlier to shreds. 

You felt Rafe's hands grip your hips tighter, pulling you back onto him with each thrust. The table dug into your stomach, a contrast to the pleasure that pulsed through you.

The tour bus's windows had been tinted, but you could feel the eyes of the other band members on you, cupping their hands to the glass, but you didn't care. 

This was always how it was after a show for Rafe—the rush of performing, the need to let go, and the freedom of the open road, and the girls, girls, girls!

Rafe had realized he'd been a lucky man because every night after his band had done a set, there would be a queue of girls waiting to do whatever he said. 

He'd fucked girls in the East and the Midwest, and the South that had pretty decent pussy, but the girls in the West pussies never seemed to fail Rafe--like yours per se. 

Rafe breath was hot against your ear, his desire matching your own; Rafe almost wanted to kiss you. 

You pulsed around his cock at the sensation.

Fuck, did Rafe love your pussy, he really did.

"You'resofuckingwarm." Rafe words jumbled. 

Your cunt was the type of warmth you'd feel after being outside in the cold all day or, as Rafe imagined, the type of warmth you get from hugging a dead loved one, per se, like his mother. 

A moan escaped your lips as Rafe's tip hit a particularly sensitive spot, and you knew you were close.

The bus bounced slightly with each of Rafe's eager movements, a rhythm that matched the pounding in your chest.

The sight of your heart-shaped ass backing into Rafe's pelvis--equally as eager as him to reach your peak--almost made Rafe say, "fuck it." and let you make an honest man out of him. 

You wanted to prolong this moment, but the pleasure was too much.

"I'm close," you panted, your voice hoarse with need.

Rafe's response was a low growl, his hips snapping faster, driving you further towards the edge.

Rafe's hands then switched from gripping your hips to both his hands, palming your plush breast and forcefully pushing you back on his cock, causing the table to creak beneath your weight, the sound adding to the erotic symphony of the moment. 

And then, with one final, deep thrust, you cried out, your body shaking as pleasure washed over you.

"Ah, fuck." you panted. "Fuck." your head was spinning. It felt like someone had just put your brain in a blender, and pressed start--metaphorically speaking.

Rafe followed a hoarse groan tearing from his throat as he found his release, his cock twitching inside for every stride of his cum.

For a moment, you both stayed still, catching your breath. Then, with a soft laugh, Rafe pulled out and turned you to face him.

And you were pretty too?! Rafe had thought to himself, because this was the first time he ever really saw your face that wasn't in the dark bar light.

Rafe was glad that he hadn't been drunk or high in the moment, because he could see himself now getting down on one knee and popping the big question.

Rafe had watched you get yourself back together, he handed you you're discarded shirt on the floor, and then asked:

"Can I see you again?"

You took the shirt from Rafe, feeling a mix of emotions. On the one hand, you were flattered by his apparent attraction; on the other, you knew your personalities were likely incompatible. "I'm not much of a groupie," you replied with a small smile. 

Rafe couldn't help but burst out laughing at your response. "Well, I guess I'll just have to settle for this one unforgettable fuck then," he joked.

"Rafe it's just that--" you paused. "I know your type. You're the type to hit it and quit it, right? Leave girls once you get sick of them?"

"Funny, I didn't take you as a tabloid junkie. You shouldn't believe everything the magazines say, y'know?" Rafe said with that boyish charm of him--the same charm that landed you getting fucked in the back of his tour bus.

You laughed, a rich, full sound that surprised you both. "Fair enough," you conceded, slipping your shirt back on.

"But I'm serious, Rafe. I'm not looking for a fling, and I don't want to be another notch on your bedpost." You paused, considering your next words carefully. "I like you, and this was… incredible. But I'm not sure we're meant for anything more."

Rafe's face softened, and he took your hand in his. "Hey, I get it. I've got a reputation, and it's not exactly a good one." He squeezed your hand gently. "But maybe, just maybe, we could try something different? Something real?" His eyes searched yours, and you could see the sincerity in them.

You bit your lip, torn between your better judgment and the pull you felt towards this enigmatic man.

"Sorry, cowboy. My 'no playboys' policy is firm," you playfully jested, causing Rafe to flash a grin.

"Oh, really?" he responded, drawing you closer. "I suppose I'll have to sway your opinion then."

"I suppose you will."

And with that, time would tell if he could win you over or not.