It's Suggested You Listen To The Song 'we Fell In Love In October' Whilst Reading.

DEVORCE RIGHT NOW, HE WIPED OFF RIHANNAS NUMBER?!?!? I WILL START A GO FUND ME AND DIVORCE HIS ASS

Kai swears that he had nothing to do it when he found you crying in front of the mirror the next morning.

You obviously, hurl a pillow at him because you know he did something but you have no proof.

Kai: I promise I didn't do anything with it. I don't get why you're so upset-

Y/n: UPSET?! KAI! RIHANNA GAVE ME HER NUMBER! I'LL NEVER BE COOL ENOUGH TO GET IT AGAIN!

Kai: aren't you like way more famous than her? Considering, you're married to me- the President.

Y/n, frustrated: KAI STFU! THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOUR STUPID EGO! ITS ABOUT ME BEING BUDDIES WITH RIHANNA AND HER BECOMING THE GODMOTHER OF OUR CHILDREN-

Kai: our children? So you want to sleep with me?

Y/n, more shrieking:

The staff and maids are just acting about their day as they hear you shriek and hurl insults at Kai.

Friends With Benefits | Eddie Munson x Reader x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie and Steve are your friends with benefits

Warnings: SMUT, straight up porn, pussy eating, cum eating, creampie, swearing, rough sex, hair pulling, titty fucking, spiting, degradation. minors, you know the drill, don’t read this. 18+ only. i’m not responsible for the shit you consume, so if you go past the line after reading all my warnings i don’t know what to fuckin say.

i’m supposed to be packing in case i have to evacuate due to possible flooding in my area but instead i wrote this… so… yeah

It was no secret that you shared certain… relations with both Eddie and Steve. You weren’t ashamed of it. There was no need to be. Not when they fucked you so well and always left you more than satisfied.

However, it also wasn’t a secret that Eddie and Steve had a certain tension with one another. Anytime you mentioned it to either of them, they’d brush it off.

So that’s exactly why you devised a plan. To get to the bottom of why your friends with benefits seemed to dislike each other so much, when they could both be working together in fucking you instead of having to keep creating a weekly schedule to avoid messes.

Tonight was Thursday, Eddie’s night. It was eleven, meaning he’d be there soon enough. And so would Steve… who you lied to and said that Eddie flaked out on you tonight and you desperately needed him.

You were giddy but also slightly nervous as you waited there, in nothing but your favorite lacy matching lingerie set. Soon enough, the familiar sound of a car - or in the case of tonight, two cars - were heard as they pulled up in the driveway.

Followed by intense slamming of doors and Eddie’s distinctive voice rang out. “What the fuck are you doing here, Harrington?” Met by Steve’s “I could ask you the same thing, Munson.” And then the sound of your front door banging open and two sets of shoes coming up the stairs, as they marched to your room.

The door swung open so hard you were almost worried it’d fall of the hinges. You were met by the annoyed faces of your boys, both looking at you with quizzical eyes. You gave them a look of innocence. “Oh,” you hummed and raised your eyebrows. “Well I definitely wasn’t expecting both of you tonight.”

Eddie and Steve both gave each other side glances, neither of them believing you. You continued to look up at both of them, a certain sly glint in your eyes that they didn’t miss out on. “I guess since you’re both here, why don’t we get started?” Eddie looked at Steve again, scoffing upon your bold suggestion.

“Yeah, right.” Eddie growled. You looked at him in real confusion, now. Surely he had to be messing with you… “You really thought you could get away with this, huh? You think we’re stupid, doll?” Eddie asked, walking over to you now and grabbing your chin. He forced you to look at him, his eyes on fire.

You all but shrunk into yourself, under his harsh gaze. “W-what are you talking about,” you muttered, nervously. It was Steve who replied, this time. He stood by the door still, arms crossed. “Is one dick for a night not enough for you, little slut? You just had to get us both over here?” You shuddered at his words.

“N-no!” You squealed, legs instinctively squeezing together. Neither of them have ever talked to you like this. Maybe you should’ve done this ages ago…

“Don’t lie, doll.” Eddie tutted. His hand was still on your chin, keeping your eyes level with his. He could see your pupils were far blown. “You wanna be used by us both more than you already are, greedy little thing, aren’t you? Tricking us both into coming over here for you could get fucked on two cocks. Whore,”

You stifled a moan, “That’s not true! I-I,” you couldn’t help your fumbling as you tried to piece together what to say. “I just- I wanted to know why you two seemed to hate each other so much… when y-you could ya know… work together.” You never sounded so pathetic before. God, they both fucking loved it.

Steve laughed first upon your confession, followed by Eddie. You looked at them, eyes darting between the two. “What?” You squeaked, scared upon seeing their devilish grins. “You sweet, oblivious little dove.” Eddie cooed cruelly, toying with your emotions.

“Steve and I don’t hate each other, fuck if anything we have a huge amount of respect for one another. Getting to fuck this pussy takes a lot of work, and sometimes it seemed like one a night wasn’t enough. Turns out we were right. All we’ve been wanting to do, doll, is fuck you. Together. We were just worried you weren’t gonna be in to that, but now that we know…” Eddie trailed off.

Steve pipped in, “now that we know, we can do just what you’ve been wanting.” Your eyes widened, lust and excitement clear. But they couldn’t allow that, not after the games you pulled. “Well, we would.” Steve continued, “but because you’re a lying slut, Eddie and I are gonna use this newfound answer to our advantage.” You whimpered, they just smirked.

“B-but,” you tried to say. Tried to get out of what you had gotten yourself into, but Eddie’s hold on you had tightened and he pushed your face down towards his crotch. “Enough,” he interrupted. “Just get to work,”

You saw the look in his eyes, in Steve’s eyes. Dark. You were in so much trouble. Deciding to obey, you made quick work of unbuttoning Eddie’s leather pants, his hips lifting a little to help you as you tug them off. He did the same when you reached for his boxers, the grey material straining against his cock.

You freed him, the sight though so familiar, never failed to make your mouth water. Tongue met skin, the taste of salty precum coating your tastebuds as you took him in your needy mouth. You tried to hide moans, not wanting him to know you wanted this so bad. He knew, they both did. You weren’t supposed to enjoy this, it wasn’t about you tonight anymore.

Eddie decided to make that known when he thrusted forward so hard, so deep, that you gagged. Spit and tears mixed together as they streamed down your face, his pace not lighting up as he continued to use and abuse your throat. “Fuck,” Eddie moaned. “So good, feels so good putting this slut in their place.”

He said it to Steve, who was watching the whole thing. He still didn’t move from the door, but he had shimmied off a few clothes. His toned chest in all its hairy glory was on display, you couldn’t help but to stare. Your cheek started to burn, Eddie’s cold and hard metal rings meeting your skin is a harsh slap.

“Don’t look at him, just fulfill your duties like the cockslut you are.” Eddie’s hand wrapped in your hair and yanked you down on his cock, keeping it there so you couldn’t move your head or look anywhere.

Your eyes were red and burned with tears, both from the pleasure but also frustration. You wanted this to go differently, but you should’ve known that the boys were two steps ahead of you. They always were

Eddie’s hold on your hair let up as he began to get closer to release, a little more gentle as he tugged your head up to meet with your eyes. His dark stare held onto your own as he came down your throat. Once he arrived back on earth he fully pushed you off him, your mouth letting go of his cock with a pop.

He didn’t let you go far from him, as he demanded you get on all four. You did as told, crawling on your hands and knees until your ass was high in the air. The lacy panties you wore left little to the imagination

You were totally soaked, and they could both see it.

However, you couldn’t saw anything right now but the base of your headboard as you had your back - well rather your ass - turned on them. You could hear shuffling, though. The sound of clothes hitting the floor, and you couldn’t help but wiggle your ass in anticipation. Earning another rough slap. This time it was from Steve, “fucking slut is still enjoying this even after you almost gagged them to death on your cock, Munson.” Steve chuckled as he turned his head to look at Eddie, who smirked back at him.

Steve delivered another smack, it was painful and mean. “Let’s see how much you enjoy this,” he said. You could feel his hard on pressing against your ass, the skin now welted and rough from his large hands. He didn’t give you time to dwell on the stinging of your skin, as he shoved his cock into your soaking cunt. Steve hissed at how tight and warm you were.

“Jesus christ, you little minx.” He reached to grab onto your hips, roughly pulling you closer. His hold was so rough, fingers digging into your skin as he plowed into you without a care. Reminding you once more that tonight wasn’t for your pleasure.

It was for theirs, and your punishment.

Steve railed into you doggy style for as long as he could, much like Eddie he enjoyed tugging on your hair, but he wanted to see your face when he used you. When he stopped pounding into you abruptly, you wanted to whine and protest, but couldn’t. He soon flipped you over anyways, now on your back with him hovering over you. His cock slipping in.

This time you let yourself moan, clenching around him. “Fuck,” Steve through his head back. “You’re a goddamn whore, you know that? Clenching around me like a lifeline. Does this dick give you life, baby? This dick your life, huh?” He all but spit the words out on your face, it was fucking humiliating.

But fuck, it was hot.

When you didn’t answer, his hands which had been playing with your nipples, moved to your throat instead. He was careful to put too much pressure, but it was enough to make your head spin. Just the way you liked, “I asked you a question, baby. Do you live for this cock, do you worship this cock?” He asked again, and this time you managed to shout.

“yes!” you moaned and cried, tears streaming down your face. Steve was fucking triumphant upon this, and he came all without much warning, filling you up to the brim with his deliciously warm and salty cum. “Shit,” Steve fell onto the bed by your side. Tired.

The two of you laid there, catching your breathe. Nothing was said, you didn’t know what to say…

Even if you did, chances of you getting to say it were slim by the time Eddie decided to worm his way up to you again. Your legs parting as Eddie silently lowered himself between your thighs, his messy hair tickling the sensitive skin. In your dazed mind, you thought you had imagined him. It wasn’t until the first long stripe was felt going from the bottom to the top of your pussy, did you register that this was very real.

Eddie are you out like a starved man, the mix of your juices and Steve’s didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest as he licked up every drop. You moaned and your hands found his way into his hair, feeling his warm cum covered lips and tongue on your clit.

Meanwhile Steve watched amazed, his cock was getting hard again as he watched the man between your legs drink up every bit of his cum and yours. You looked at when you felt Steve moving beside you, pulling himself up to his knees. Steves hand wrapped around his own cock, and he began to stroke himself at the sight of Eddie eating you out.

You felt yourself burning all over, more so than before, not sure what to watch. Who to watch…

Eddie looked up at you from between your thighs and winked, pulling away slightly for a moment to catch Steve’s attention. “Those tits look awful lonely and untouched, don’t they, Harrington?” Eddie said in a suggestive tone, to which Steve caught on to.

Because before you knew it, Steve’s hands left his cock and were placed between your tits, letting them do the job. Eddie smirked and continued his work, mumbling something about how “Stevie boys cum was sweet but not as good as his,” you couldn’t quite tell. The stars in the late night sky shined in your room as you came, Steve following in your steps as he painted you in white once more. This time, the art displayed on your bare chest for all to see.

You should’ve arranged this a long time ago, you thought to yourself, as you found yourself now clean and taken care of and in the arms of your boys.

AHHH EDDIE MUNSON LITERALLY OWNS ME HOLY FUCK

this is a request btw but if you dont wanna this could easily just be us geeking abt this beautiful man

okok sO y/ns like this good girl teachers pet-- pleated skirts and mary janes and all-- with straight a's and she's sent to tutor eddie bc man is failing with a capital F so they're studying in her pink room with a bunch of awesome stuffies (in my head a lot of them are dragons and gargoyles and eddie's nerdy lil heart fricken explodes but this is just me being stupid in love) and he has full intention to do absolutely zERO work

(corruption kink and dom!eddie if you couldn't tell by now jdjjd)

and the whole time he's just teasing her (cough degrading her cough) and flirting with her (cO U G H praising her ahem) and- oops now they're fucking *acts shocked*

fin

(also i'm 19 minors pls away away *sprays you with water*)

oh gosh. This is filth, genuinely. I don't know how I wrote this with a straight face. I need to go to confession or smthn.

content: innocence kink, unprotected sex, creampie, improper use of a study date, I literally never know what to put in this part, not proofread bc I'm lazy

Eddie paced around the delightfully pink room, taking note of how the frilly edge of the bedspread matched the girl spread out on top of it to a tee.

In his dreams this is exactly how her room looked, sans the adorable stuffed animals that even he couldn’t have conjured up in his imagination. He plucked one off the bed, inspecting it carefully as if it were some precious item. "Your room is uh...cute,” he commented.

“Oh jeez. I mean to put those away before you got here.” She shook her head and her bottom lip between her teeth, coaxing the stuffed animal out of his hand and carefully setting it back on the bed.

“I think they’re cute. Didn’t take you for a bat girl though,” he teased, gesturing to her large collection of unorthodox stuffed animals. It was made up of mostly bats, with a few dragons and other miscellaneous fantasy creatures.

“Oh yeah. I wanted to rip the head off of one of them, ya know as a reference to Ozzy Osborne, but my mom said it was too vulgar.”

"You're cute too,” he said confidently. She had noticed the way she looked at him in class and when their teacher paired them together to help get his grade up, he knew it was his chance to make a move.

"Hm?” She hummed.

“You’re cute too. Like the bats.” His voice pitched slightly, still unsure of his actions. She sat on the edge of her bed, blinking up at him with wide sparkling eyes.

She shook her head, looking away and hiding the shy smile on her face. “Oh. I don’t think-“

“Aw. Why are you getting shy on me now?” he teased, cupping her face. His thumb brushed over her lip, pushing its way into her mouth when her lips gaped slightly.

“Mmmm,” she whined around his finger, looking up at him though her fluttering lashes with an innocent and confused gaze.

“Lookit you. All innocent and yet you’re sucking my finger like a-"

She tongued his finger out of her mouth, pushing it away harshly and whining the residual drool off her face. “Eddie. We need to study," she warned.

“Alright, baby. Whatever you want. How about you sit on my lap so we can focus on each other better?” He sat in her bed, back against her headboard. He waited comfortably for her answer.

“O-ok.” She hesitantly straddled his lap, knees shaking to hold her a respectable distance above him.

He gripped her waist, tugging her hips down to meet his so she was resting more comfortably on his lap. “So. Tell me about the Pythagorean theorum.”

“Basically…” She droned on about the sides of a triangle and how they all related to each other. Her voice stuttered slightly when his hands fell from her waist down to her thighs, pushing up her skirt and digging his fingers into the flesh of her legs.

“Mhm, keep going. Did I say you could stop?” he asked, his voice innocent enough but he was clearly mocking her.

“Why is your lap so hard?” She questioned, hips stuttering and involuntarily rubbing against him.

“Because someone is soaking right though their panties onto my cock,” he chastised, running two fingers over the seam of her and feeling the wetness seep through.

“I didn’t mean-“ she started to apologize but she was quickly interrupted.

"If you're gonna get them all wet, you don't really need them do you?" he asked, hooking his fingers into the band and tugging it back. The fabric snapped back against her skin, causing a whimper to leave her lips.

"Uh, no. I guess not," she replied slowly. Before she could finish he was already prying the underwear off her body, gently sliding them down her legs.

She whined when she pressed her uncovered cunt back to the denim of his jeans. His arms wrapped around her waist, pressing her tightly to him but stilling any motion she could have made with her hips.

“Aw, none of that. Do you want me to help?” He asked, slipping one hand down to grip her ass and squeeze.

“You’re gonna make me feel better?” she whimpered, a pleading look in her eyes.

He could already feel her wetness dripping onto his lap, easily sliding two fingers into her. “Yeah. I’m gonna make you feel so good," he cooed, curling them against her walls. A smooth metal ring bumped against her clit, sending a shiver though her body.

He teased his fingers in and out of her, revealing in the way her body shook violently against him. "Pleeeease," she whined, grinding herself down on his digits when he stopped moving.

"This isn't enough for your greedy pussy?" She didn't respond, instead wailing against the skin of his neck, drool dripping from her mouth against him.

"More." She rolled her hips, seeking out friction from his unmoving fingers.

"Alright. Alright." He slipped his fingers out, making quick work of unzipping his pants and tugging his boxers over his hard cock. The appendage slapped against his stomach, angry reddened tip already leaking with pre-cum.

"Oh. It's pink!" she yelped, fingers ghosting over the shaft as she examined it.

"Y-yep," he gasped when she wrapped her fingers around it finally.

She giggled when it twitched against her soft palm, lazily jerking him off and watching the way he reacted.

"You want me to put it in?" he asked, peeling her fingers away and replacing them with his own.

She nodded, lifting her hips so he could run the head of him against the silky wet folds of her cunt. He rubbed the tip around her bundle of nerves, giving an adequate amount of time for her to get desperate.

Finally he settled inside her, bottoming out with only a little pain. He stayed still for a moment, letting her get used to the stretch. By the time he started to gently thrust his hips, her pussy was already drooling around him.

Her legs were shaking, doing no favors In helping her fuck herself on his cock. His hips thrusting up into her were doing most of the work along with his hands cupping her waist and sliding her over him like a pocket pussy.

It was only minutes before she was spasming around him, one hand tangled in his hair while the other was clawing at the neck of his shirt.

"S'good," he slurred, cum spilling inside of her at the same time as she convulsed in pleasure.

"mmmMMm," she moaned, slumping against him, exhausted and drowsy.

"Was that good?" he asked, far too shy for their current situation. Both of their laps were sopping with their combined fluids before he even pulled out.

"Yeah," she murmured, nuzzling her head against his chest affectionally.

"I still don't know the pythagorean theorem," he joked, giving her a little kiss on the forehead. A bit of affection exchanged before he got up to clean them both off.

taglist here:

@angelsarecallin @sebby-staan @niviiera @chaoticgurl @evqans @slut-for-matt-murdock @multihaven @tinyboxxtink @hold-our-destiny @weh-heh-heh @battiebabe216 @captain-satan @avril-reblog-cave @dragon-ash13 @stxvercgersslut  @fangirl199812 @variety-fangirl @buckybeefybarnes @strangerthings64 @baddestbiddiesonly

(lmk if you want to be added)

in so deep

premise: you’d have a dozen kids if it meant steve kept fucking you like this.

pairing: steve harrington x (f)reader

word count: 495

warnings: eighteen+ content, porn without plot, unprotected piv, breeding kink, dirty talk, slight possessiveness, f receiving oral mentioned, talks of steve and his six lil nuggets.

etc: literally just wanted to write something absolutely filthy and feral for steve, that’s all, that’s it.

i do not give anyone permission to translate or repost my work, please be respectful — if you enjoyed please comment or reblog!

Your legs rest in the crook of his arms as Steve fucks you slow and deep, the head of his cock hitting that spot inside of you that usually hurts, that has the pain outweighing the pleasure and makes your body retreat. But right now, with the way his hips are rolling just right, so fucking slow and gentle, it feels so good.

Your nails dig into the sides of his arms, his mouth on yours. His words are filthy and make your cheeks burn from more than just the heat from your bodies pressed together—from the pleasure.

“Hmm?” Steve hums against your lips, trails a kiss down to your chin to nip at it. “What would you do, baby. If tonight was the night I finally filled you so full that it took?” His breath is heavy, grunts deep, eyes keep closing from the pleasure, strands of his hair falling into your face. “You’d never be able to leave me then, would always have a part of me with you, be mine forever.”

The noises coming from your throat make it burn, your moans weak and whimpering. His words making your stomach flutter with something sickly pleasurable and possessive.

You knew all about Steve’s dream of six lil’ nuggets. Of sharing a life with you, with wanting it so bad. The act of it finally happening more pleasurable than the thought. That maybe this time would be it, that that silly little dream would become a reality, that the perfect mix of you and him would be running around in nine months time.

There’s been several nights, spontaneous occasions when Steve’s bent you over a table, a counter, the hood of his car, telling you how pretty you’d look full of him in your dresses—those pair of panties that would look so much better stained with his come as you walked around with him leaking out of you.

Has even spent time between your legs after he’s come inside your cunt to suck at your clit and fuck you with his fingers to push his seed back into you. The filthy squelching from his mouth, your wetness, and him dripping out of you sinfully obscene.

“Don’t move, fuuuck, stay right there,” he would moan when you’re ontop of him, after he’s come inside of you. Hands on either side of your neck to pull your forehead to his, your knees in a tight lock around his waist. “Keep me inside of you, soak it up, baby.”

You’d have a dozen kids if it meant Steve kept fucking you like this—like that. Feeling his breaths against your skin, his groans above you. The gleam of passion and want and need in his eyes as he looked down at you.

“Beg me for it, baby, please.” Steve’s voice sounds weak, thrusts picking up. “Tell me how bad you want me to come inside of you, how bad you want to be mine forever,” he groans desperately.

Secret Ingredient

Dark! PTA Dads! Stucky x Teacher! Reader

Summary: You take such good care of their daughter Rebecca that Bucky and Steve decide they want to take care of you too.

Warnings: NON-CON, smut, somnophilia, drugging, kidnapping, breeding kink

Word count: 6.9k

A/N: ​​@cocoamoonmalfoy helped brainstorm. Thanks!

Main Masterlist // Library 

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

Squirming beneath the scrutiny of Bucky Barnes, you tuck a stray coil behind your ear. Sending him an awkward smile, you avert your gaze, letting it wander back to the front of the gymnasium.

The reason this is likely all in your head proudly stands on stage, perorating about the benefits of parental input in matters regarding the curriculum for the next year. Steve Rogers. President of the PTA, husband to Bucky Barnes, father of an adorable six year old…and your worst nightmare as a teacher.

Keep reading

Chris Evans and Characters Master List

Andy Barber

Ari Levinson

Chris Evans

Curtis Everett

Frank Adler

Jake Jensen

Lucas Lee

Mike Weiss

Ransom Drysdale

Robert Pronge

Stuff that always gets me

eddie munson; tiddies

next : 2

pairings : eddie munson x female!reader summary : after a drunken evening eddie's name ends up written on your tits. he catches a glimpse in the cafeteria warnings : soft smut (minors dni), underage drinking (reader is a senior), mild swearing i’d just like to thank a wild night out for the inspiration on this one. i’m a slut for eddie munson. part 3 of tutor is coming and I've got two requests i'm writing plus another eddie headcannon series in the works.

masterlist and taglist

okay hear me out, getting drunk with eddie and somehow he ends up signing your tit with a sharpie. it doesn’t click that the pen is sharpie until you wake up the next morning and it’s not coming off in the shower.

do not ask how it ended up happening, neither of you know it just did

sods fucking law you’ve not done your washing recently and the top you’re wearing has a pretty low v-neck. one wrong move and the whole of the student body is going to see eddie (or at least the start of it because it’s so big the first few letters aren’t even covered by your bra).

it’s kinda hot. knowing that you’ve got his name, written by him, somewhere that people only ever really see unless you’re getting intimate.

or you’re drunk with your best friend who you’re only a little bit in love with

eddie doesn’t remember straight away, but when you sit down at the lunch table and lean over to give gareth some english notes he sees it

this boy chokes, he’s beet red and that part of the evening is coming back to him, it’s not that he blacked out or anything but he was definitely thinking it was just something his drunk brain imagined

now he’s got a hard on in the cafeteria and whilst the jeans look cool there’s nothing left to the imagination

the rest of the hellfire club have no clue what’s going on, but your eyes widen slightly as you realise what’s got him so worked up

he’s turned on, you’re turned on. and this is where the tension finally snaps

‘meet me in the van’ he murmurs as he quite abruptly grabs his stuff and stalks off

you’re excusing yourself not long after he left, telling the hellfire club you’ve got to go and see mr mundy about some extra credit

when you get to his van the first thing he does is grip your hips and pull you closer into a needy kiss

this is new but you’re not complaining

neither of you have to say anything about your feelings for each other, your actions are saying it for you

eddie is so needy

you would think that he’d be all dominant, and maybe if he’d written his name and then gotten off with you at the same time he would be

but this caught him unaware and he’s just so weak

his favourite girl with his name, written haphazardly in sharpie claiming what’s his

he’s a puddle

before you know it you’re making out straddling him in the back of his van

your hands are in his hair, pulling gently on it

and his hands are palming your tits through your shirt

‘let’s take this off,’ he murmurs into your skin, whilst tugging at the bottom of the fabric

‘wanna see my name on my tits,’

as soon as your shirt is off eddie’s kissing, and sucking on the top of your breasts, leaving hickies on the unmarked one

he’s starting to unravel and this is all too much for him so when you decide to start palming him through his trousers

it’s all over

putty in your goddamn hands

moaning into your tits, pushing his face so far into them he’s basically suffocating

‘eddie…eddie baby,’ your voice breaks him out of his trance, pulling him back into the moment letting out an absolutly pathetic whine when he realises the movement of your hand has stopped

‘i’m not sleeping with you for the first time in the high school parking lot,’

he just kind of short circuits because you said first time. and that’s implying it’s going to be more than once and he just can’t quite believe how someone so beautiful actually wants him

you lean in nice and close to his ear, your voice low and sensual with the promise that, if he can drive you back to his trailer you’ll let him fuck your tits

he’s never moved so fast in his life

Ewan Mitchell + profile (requested by anon! <3)

Wax Wings in the Moonlight

WARNINGS: yandere, stalking, kidnapping, possessiveness, mentions of abuse, slight misogyny, delusion, nsfw, noncon

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! HAWKS X READER

Icarus was an idiot.

A boy with wax wings who loved the Sun so much, he let it burst him to flames. He also resented the constant comparison. He wasn’t a boy with wax wings; his feathers were sharp and crimson, cut like knives, and drew blood at the slightest touch. And he certainly wasn’t chasing after any Sun.

He’d earned his place, spent his life in the shadows and the black, giving his blood, sweat, and tears to serve a world that worshiped pretty wax boys and girls that shined in the Sun.

He wasn’t one of them. He never would be, but he could pretend. He’d run his hands through golden tresses, and give his pretty wax smiles, so that they would feel safe and good and warm in the light.

He was fine being the one to watch like a man in the Moon, surveying the night, so that come morning the Sun could shine. He’d found a sort of peace in it. The night was cold and dark and cruel, but the night was honest. The night was his.

The Sun shone like a spotlight, and as the puppet on the stage, he could do nothing but dance for an audience so insatiable, they were only driven away by the darkening sky. Only to come back the next day for a show they had seen a million times before.

He liked to fantasize about what would happen should the Sun forget to rise one day. Would he be free? Could he unfurl his wings, permanently stained with the blood of the monsters in the night, and fly to the Moon? The Moon didn’t burn; the Moon didn’t blind; the Moon didn’t lie. He quite liked the Moon.

But it was a fool’s dream. Like the little wax boy who thought he could touch the Sun. So he’d play his part, if only to live in the dream that the freedom of the night provided. He was fine being alone. He liked being alone. Until one day, he didn’t.

He’d met many like her; he was sure. Pretty little girls who ran from the Sun because the light was too bright, too blinding, too fake. They were always his favorite, at least for a night.

After all, hawks liked to play with their food, but once it was caught, once it had been devoured? Well, what use were there for bones picked free of flesh he’d already tasted? He plastered on a golden smile.

Now, he wasn’t used to rejection, but his ego could take the way her eyes narrowed, lips twisting in a way that could only be seen as bitter mistrust. He liked pretty little things, sure, but he also liked easy little things. He could take it. The seedy bar was filled with prey, who, while not as sweet, would surely sate his appetite. But then she said something,

“You smile like the Sun.”

His face was half turned away from her, already scouring for his next victim, but his eyebrows quirked in amusement, smile turning sharp and deadly. Got her. He turned to welcome his meal for the night, tongue flicking across razor sharp canines. But then,

“I hate it.” 

He blinked, eyes owlish and wide. And then he laughed. Loud and unreserved, his hand came to clutch his stomach; he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been caught off guard like this. He kind of liked it. 

He opened his mouth to respond; he thought to say something quick and witty back at her. If she wouldn’t spread her legs and warm his bed, she could at least stay and talk with him for a while. It was only fair.

But as he lowered his face back to hers, he caught sight of the mischievous smile that played at her lips, and all thought fled from his brain, blood rushing to color his cheeks. It was a lopsided grin that sparkled under the warm lights of the tavern. Like a Crescent Moon, he thought. He liked it.

“Would you like me to show you my real smile?”

He didn’t know why he was being so blunt, but he felt naked under the glow of her eyes. He wanted to test a theory; how much could she really see him?

“No.”

“No? Why’s that?”

“I don’t believe you have one.” 

He’d always known that the night was cruel, that the night was honest; everything was laid bare beneath the glimmer of the Moon.

Icarus really was an idiot. To chase the Sun, when the Moon was so much more raw, so much more beautiful. 

The Moon was in the shape of a woman, and her hips swayed from side to side as she walked away from him, a shimmering silhouette drowned out in the inkinesss of the black sky. He really did love the night.

He didn’t think he’d see her again, though he cherished the memory of her for weeks after their brief meeting. The sparkle of her smile, and the sway of her hips had provided him ample entertainment when he was left alone with only his thoughts and hands to satisfy. 

He didn’t believe in God, or fate, or wax winged fantasies. But damn if it wasn’t tempting when he caught sight of her, legs swinging off a too tall building, cigarette resting between what were undoubtedly soft lips.

He floated down with his blood red wings, and too bright smile, landing on the ledge beside her. She blew out a cloud of smoke in greeting, eyes trained forward--no, upward--glittering in the moonlight.

“You smile like the Moon. I love it.”

Cheesy, but he was sure it would get his point across. After all, it was almost like she had wanted him to find her, alone and vulnerable under the night sky, the sky he owned. She took another long drag of her cigarette, sighing out the smoke.

“Did you know that hawks are blind at night?”

She still wasn’t looking at him, almost as if she didn’t really believe he was there, like he was simply a figment of her imagination passing by in the night. Instead, her eyes scanned the stars. He found himself thinking that they belonged among them. He opened his mouth to respond, but she wasn’t quite finished,

“I think you’ve been dancing around in the night too long. Birdie should fly along home to his pretty blue sky, lest he want the shadows to swallow him whole.”

She spoke in riddles, like a long forgotten goddess come down to earth as an act of grace for creatures too small and too unworthy to truly know her, to truly understand. He realized that he’d gotten it wrong; she hadn’t run from the Sun. She was a creature born in the black of the night. The starlit sky was her home. 

This was fine. He was fine being unworthy. He could play the game; he was good at games, and a game with a goddess of the night was a game all the same.

“Hawks are predators, don’t you know? The shadows can try, but I’ve got my claws hooked to the Moon.”

“And where exactly do you plan on taking this Moon you’ve supposedly trapped in your claws?”

He couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. The words that left her, poetry though they may be, revealed to him an altogether new, fascinating discovery. She could see right through him. He loved it. And, dare he say, a touch of morbid curiosity tinted her speech?

“Wherever she may want to go. After all, I’m nothing if not a generous suitor.”

“Tell me. How many suitors do you think the Moon had before men realized they couldn’t bring her down to Earth to fuck, and breed like cattle?”

There was finally an inch of emotion in her voice. Irritation colored the pretty words, and he found his smile growing. How humanizing it was. For a goddess to feel in the same way her creations did. The Moon may be cruel, but it was always honest. Whether or not it wanted to be.

“I assure you, I have no intention of stealing the Moon from her sky.” 

She looked at him now, but her eyes were sharp and cold. She’d dipped her toes in the pond of human insanity, and she’d grown bored with it, it seemed.

“I don’t believe you.”

She let her lit cigarette fall, eyes following the small glow as it disappeared into the inky black of the night. And then she stood, stretching her arms above her head. He caught a peek of lace as her shirt lifted, and swallowed as he felt his face heat.

And then she turned, back to the ledge of the roof, and smiled a smile too bitter for her pretty face. Where was that sparkling, lopsided, Crescent Moon grin? And then she leaned back, and fell.

He was on his feet quicker than he realized, blood red wings quick to puff out, and dive. But she was gone, melted into the tar of the starlit sky. How cruel the Moon was. To mock him, to prove just how out of reach she really was.

He wasn’t losing this game. The Moon was pretty, and the Moon was smart. But the Moon was not untouchable. And he had wings. He could fly. Fuck you, Icarus. His wings weren’t made of wax. 

He wouldn’t burn.

It was a while before he found her again, though not for a lack of trying. He’d done some digging as they played this game of cat and mouse. Hawks may be blind in the night, but spend enough time in the darkness, and the monsters you meet are sure to become your friends.

She lived in a place too run down, and too dangerous to be called a home. Though, with her ability to slip in and out of reach at the drop of a hat, she’d managed.

It was a fitting power, he thought. Many had tried to bring the Moon to Earth before, but she slipped through their fingers too easily. After all, she was a million miles away. That was fine. His wings were sharp and his wings were strong. He could fly a million miles, if she so pleased.

Though, she didn’t seem pleased to find him wandering underneath the same streetlights one night. She looked unimpressed when he assured her it was a simple coincidence. The Moon was smart. But she didn’t make an effort to disappear into the pitch black of the night; she must have wanted him to find her. 

How many times would she make him chase her? Did she think he’d grow tired? Hawks, as unwelcome as they seemed to be in the night sky, mated for life. And the Moon was immortal. He had the stamina.

“Icarus seems to be getting too close to the Sun, Birdie.”

He liked the pet name, but the comparison grated his nerves. But the Moon liked the peace, and the Moon liked the quiet. He wouldn’t disturb her; it was her night, after all. He huffed out a laugh too polished, but she chose to spare him the criticism.

“How lucky for me that the Moon seems to be hiding it from view.”

“If wax wings burn in the sunlight, what do you suppose happens to them in the moonlight?”

“Wax wings only exist in Greek tragedies, little Moon. I’m afraid reality is far less poetic.”

There was a beat of silence, an unreadable emotion crossed her face.

“How disappointing.”

She reached a finger forward, and a ripple danced through the inky night. She was done entertaining him for the night.

“What do you mean?”

He wanted to keep her there a while longer. He just needed to fly a bit closer, and he’d be there; he just barely started to feel the Moon’s glow; he didn’t want to lose it so quickly.

“It seems that hawks are blind in more ways than one.”

Her eyes, that shone like the brightest of stars, dimmed. A far away look washed over her face, seemingly entranced with galaxies far beyond their reach.

“Only those who read the story got to see Icarus fall. Only they got to understand. He didn’t. He just died.”

And she was gone.

He stayed under the streetlights for a while longer feeling strangely hollow, be it from her words, or her absence, he didn’t know.

No. The Moon was honest, but she wasn’t all knowing. She couldn’t see everything from where she hung in the sky. And his wings let him see the world.

Okay. He was done with this game. It was time to steal the Moon from her sky. The Moon was honest. The night was honest. He never said he was honest. But he didn’t want to burn; he needed a plan.

He loved the night, but he was loved in the daylight. Who would have known his role on the sunlit stage would do him any good? He’d too easily found the perfect little collar to trap his Moon. She wouldn’t be slipping away from him anytime soon.

He was ripping the Moon from the sky. She would surely leave a hole among the stars in her absence. He felt his chest bubble in manic glee.

Good. The night was his. The Moon was his. He’d worked so hard. He let the strings of his fate puppet him all his life. Wasn’t he entitled to some reward?

And she was the most lovely of prizes.

There was rarely a time she went to sleep before the sun started to peek through the horizon. He had to be quick, lest he want those pretty wax boys and girls who patrolled the daylight to catch him. To steal his Moon.

He hadn’t realized how careless she was, dancing with abandon under the multicolored lights of the bar, leaving her drink unattended at a corner table. Nevermind that, it was lucky for him. No matter how annoying it was to see her friends buzzing around her like moths to her flame. They served as a fine distraction. He’d have her to himself soon enough. Maybe he could make her dance for him.

He would have scolded her for the ease at which the monsters that go bump in the night would be able to climb through her window, but he supposed he was one of those monsters now. That was fine. He’d be a monster if it meant he could hold the Moon in his hands, and know that he was the only one allowed to feel her glow.

The silver collar reminded him of a wedding band as it clicked around her neck. How lucky for him she hadn’t noticed the unnatural bubbles that fizzed her drink not even an hour ago. Her head fell against his chest as he lifted her into his arms. Is this what it felt like to touch the Moon?

Okay, Icarus. He acquiesced. He understood. The feeling of her skin, soft as cotton, sent shivers down his spine. The peaceful look on her sleeping face only reinforced what he had already known. She was a Goddess. Blood red feathers puffed in excitement, and something a little more feral.

The golden glow that began to creep into the sky shook him from his thoughts. Wax wings couldn’t have carried him across the sky as quickly as he had been able to soar home. Wax wings wouldn’t have allowed him to cradle the Moon in his arms like the most precious of possessions, and spirit her away from that sky she loved so much.

But he supposed she hadn’t been entirely wrong as he set her down on satin sheets, that pretty wedding ring collar around her neck. Maybe the shadows of the night had swallowed him whole. That was fine. 

He’d been able to drag her with him into the abyss. She would have to share her moonlight with him now, lest she want to stumble blind and dumb through the dark the rest of her immortal life.

He knew she wasn’t really immortal, but the knowledge that she’d shine only for him until her last breath made him feel like forever was at his fingertips.

He sat, deep in thought, at the edge of the bed, eyes glued to his Moon. He wondered, when she opened those starlit eyes of hers, and found herself brought down to Earth, would she cry pretty, shooting star tears? Or would she look upon him with grateful awe, that he had been the one to finally touch her? To catch her.

And then, remembering her words, a more sadistic thought. He hadn’t brought her down to Earth to fuck and breed like cattle. He really hadn’t. Or not just to fuck and breed like cattle. His lips split in an insatiable grin, tongue flicking out to lick across too sharp fangs. That was simply a welcome bonus.

He’d never had anything to call his own his entire life. All the little wax boys and girls got to play in the Sun. They’d been able to enjoy the light. He’d never understood. The light had held him hostage, and used him to do its dirty work because it was too afraid of the dark to do it on its own. Fine. But if he had to be a slave to the light, he’d revel in the darkness.

He had the moonlight to guide him now.

He was surprised to find that there was a darkness that frightened even the Moon. But the pale horror that painted her face as she gazed upon him, hands clawing at the silver present at her neck could only be explained as suffocating fear.

"Don't be scared, little Moon. You'll be alright down here on Earth. Right here with me, where you belong."

He couldn’t wait to unwrap his present. But as he shed his clothes, and crept forward, and an ocean of tears fell from her glowing eyes, he found himself the slightest bit disappointed. He’d really hoped she’d be thanking him. She should be thanking him.

A spark of irritation lit in his chest. He’d played her game. And he’d won. It was only fair that he collected his prize. He’d flown so far to touch the Moon. The least she could do is lay back, and let his fingers explore.

Oh well. What was one more game?

He captured her hands in his claws, trapping beating fists in pretty silver bracelets laced to the bed frame. Shooting star tears streaked her cheeks as he shoved her into satin sheets. He brushed the wetness from her cheeks, but the rivers that streamed from her eyes were endless.

He felt like gloating to Gods that didn’t exist as he ripped at the pretty white lace that decorated her skin. Pretty white lace. The Moon really was pure, really was untouched.

Well, until now. Suck it, Icarus.

He crammed that pretty white lace that he’d dragged down her legs into her mouth. Screams didn’t suit the Moon’s pretty voice. Where had her riddles gone? He wrenched her thighs apart, and let his eyes explore. His claws slid down, sinking into plush skin, and his head dove between her legs. 

Thank you for the meal. The taste of her on his tongue was like nothing he’d ever known before. Ambrosia. She really was a Goddess.

His tongue explored inside her, and played with that pretty jewel between her legs until she began to tremble. She twisted, spitting the pretty lace out of her mouth, and with a voice breathy and shaking,

“Please.”

Like he said, he was nothing if not a generous suitor. He spelled his name with his tongue across her lower lips, and kissed at her sensitive bud.

Her thighs quivered, hands straining against those silver bracelets, as the most beautiful of moans left her mouth. Her back arched in a way that reminded him of that ethereal Crescent Moon.

He leaned back, wiping the dew from the wolfish grin on his face. He freed her hands, wanting to feel her sacred fingers roam his unworthy skin. Never mind how they pushed and scratched and hit, begging with each new mark they painted on his skin.

After all, where could the Moon go now that the sky was out of reach? He positioned himself at the heaven’s gate his tongue had just barely peeked through.

“You’ve been floating all on your own in the sky too long, little Moon. It seems the shadows have swallowed you.”

And he shoved himself inside.

Fuck.

He finally understood why men went to war, why men died for just a taste of elysium. He vaguely registered the broken pleas and cries that came from her lips, but he payed no mind to the words. The sounds that left her sent pleasure-filled shivers down his spine.

He thrust inside her with wild abandon as she bleated and whimpered, and knew that he had touched perfection. His wings, strong and sharp and bloody, were nothing but wax imitations to the real, raw beauty of the Moon.

He was no different than the little wax boy who thought he could touch the Sun. But this little wax boy had caught the Moon.

Pretty hands came to clutch at crimson feathers, fingers digging in to grasp on to some sense of reality. He realized he could answer her question now. As she tore the feathers from him in terrified, pleasured frenzy, he knew. 

Wax wings didn’t burn in the moonlight.

They bled.